#trying to make even a slightly decent one before saying fuck it and doing a paper texture

[raindropsyndrome]

THOSE DARN TURTLES STOLE MY CLOTHES‼️

#art #my art #my artwork #digital art #digital doodle #digital illustration #rise of the tmnt fanart #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt fan art #rottmnt #note to self- plan out a BACKGROUND next time you make piece like this because you didn’t this time and as a result soent three hours #trying to make even a slightly decent one before saying fuck it and doing a paper texture

[honkytonk-hangman]

Good In Bed

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake has made it crystal clear to you that you're only friends with benefits, so why did he go and delete your dating apps?

Warnings: brief mentions of smut but not smutty, jake kinda being an asshole, reader getting upset and yelling at him, fluff ending all the way baybay

Notes: u have no clue how much i love u @roleycoleyland for literally being the reason this got finished &lt;;3 <;3 <3 title from Good In Bed by Dua Lipa <3

Masterlist

Jake pumps his hips hard into yours one final time, before he at last collapses beside you, chest sweaty and heaving, his eyes closed and his face raised to the ceiling. Your position had shifted from the pure force of your fucking, and somehow your head had fallen off the side of his bed, leaving you hanging slightly as you too try to catch your breath.

“Damn, I’ve missed this,” he says a short time later, shifting himself fully out from between your legs, and tucking his hands behind his head, the afterglow of a good lay lingering on him beautifully. Once upon a time his words might’ve sparked pride or even joy, but now they’re just one more cut that stings painfully before being swallowed up. You note sourly he doesn’t say he’s missed you, despite the fact he’s been gone ten weeks now, and against your better judgement you missed him.

You lay there on his bed in the late evening and regret every moment that led you to this point. You shouldn't have picked up when he called tonight, you shouldn't have come over for drinks, and you definitely shouldn't have had sex with him again.

It’s not that Jake isn't a nice guy, well, he isn’t always, but for the most part he was a mile more decent than most of the guys you’d actually dated in the past. From the start he was straightforward and blunt with you about what this thing between you would be, how much he was offering you, and to his credit, he rarely seemed to step outside of that. And like an idiot, you’d gone and gotten feelings for him anyway.

You should have stopped seeing him long before his most recent deployment, and you shouldn't have been there the night before he left for him to hit you with another straightforward and blunt assertion that you were only fuck buddies, nothing more.

The thing is, you and Jake got on well, so well in fact most people assumed that you were an item, and at this point maybe you were blinded by your feelings, but you couldn’t exactly see why you shouldn't be, aside form the fact that Jake didn’t seem to be interested in any sort of commitment, despite what that offered was basically what you had now, only he didn’t have to go out of his way to break your heart once a week.

After the last time, before he’d left for ten weeks, you’d sworn off him for good. You put his name in your phone as ‘DO NOT CALL’, you downloaded a few dating apps, you’d even been on a few dates… and then Jake had sauntered back into your life, invited you over for the night and just like none of your progress existed in the first place, you’d come at his beck and call.

You lay there feeling pathetic as it sinks in what you’ve done, but swallow back your emotions for now. You were an adult, you chose to do this with him tonight, you knew what it would do. Warm fingers make you jump as they wrap around your wrist, and you glance up to watch as Jake effortlessly tugs you back onto the bed, closer to him, never letting his hand leave your skin as he releases you to skim his fingers up and over your shoulder, drawing you even closer until you’re almost cuddling. You nearly pull away.

Jake wasn’t a post-sex cuddler, not really anyway. Aftercare? No problem, but this wasn’t exactly the sort of session that required aftercare, so you’re more than a little surprised by his continued affections, staying still as he curls himself onto his side to face you, hand dropping to grab at your thigh, which he hikes over his, as if this was something you normally did.

“You may need to give me a few before we go again,” you tell him, realising this position was probably just him gearing up for round two. Jake peeks an eye open at you, and lifts an eyebrow as though what you’ve said is very funny.

“I don’t think I’ve got more to give tonight,” he says, adjusting your leg around him again, pulling you in even more. You refrain from frowning, if only to avoid explaining to him why. Jake closes his eyes again and lets out a contented sigh. His hand stays curled around your leg, though he begins rhythmically smoothing his thumb back and forth over your skin after a few moments, and you begin to wonder at what point he’s going to withdraw from you like he usually does.

Luckily you’re saved from the dreaded wait, your phone buzzing loud and distractingly. You use it as the perfect excuse to extract yourself from him, instead moving to a sitting up cross-legged position as you reach for your phone, and draw the screen closer to your chest when you see who it’s from. Jake seems only a little disgruntled by your movement, though gets over it quickly, replacing his hand almost exactly where it once was around your thigh.

“What's going on?” he asks casually, eyes closed again as you tap out a reply. You spare him half a glance, but don’t feel much point in lying to him about things, seeing as he’d never done so with you.

“Just this guy I met on Tinder a while back.” you tell him lightly, completely missing how his eyes pop open immediately and he stares up at you with an unreadable expression.

“You’re on Tinder?” he asks, voice blank, finally making you look down at him properly. You blink and shrug, before going back to your phone.

“Sure, I mean, I don’t know how else to meet people these days, I kinda don’t get out much when Dagger’s not around,” you inform him, shifting in your place slightly as he withdraws his hand from your thigh to lay over his sternum instead.

Feeling the mood shift, but unsure as to why, you force out a laugh and shrug.

“It’s been sorta nice, trying to get back out there again properly, not just, you know, settling or whatever.” that makes Jake react clearly, frowning at you while pushing himself into an upright position. “Settling?!” he repeats, though it’s not really a question. You stare at him in confusion.

“I don’t know, I guess I’m getting past the point in my life where I wanna be doing this,” you getsure between the two of you. “All the time.”

Jake blinks at you in clear offence, before quickly his entire demeanour seems to change all at once, and his expression falls into a somewhat familiar cocky grin.

“Alright, I get it,” he says, only further confusing you and you’re caught off guard enough that when he reaches out and plucks your phone from your hands, you don’t have time to react.

“Hey! Jake!” you protest, suddenly a little panicked as he very easily plays keep-away from you, using one of his hands to do something on your screen, while the other easily bats away you various attempts to swipe your phone back.

“You don’t need any of this shit, alright?” Jake tells you almost condescendingly.

“Jake!” you warn, your voice growing less calm by the moment.

“There, gone. Deleted.” he says proudly, before at last turning your phone screen around to face you, and letting you take it back off him, which you do hurriedly, snatching it away and standing up from the bed.

“What the fuck?!” you demand, looking agape between your now tinder-less phone, and Jake. The blond looks more relaxed now, and all of a sudden any thought of keeping your brooding and your feelings to yourself goes out the window. Your eyes prickle.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you do that?!” you shout. Jake has the smarts to at least drop his smug grin, but now he stares up at you in even more annoying surprise.

“I was just–” he starts, but you don’t even care what he has to say anymore.

“You don’t get to leave for ten weeks after, especially after reminding me that you don’t want me, and then just show up again and ruin my chances at finding someone who actually does!” your raised voice wobbles, and you don’t bother trying to hide your sniffling as you continue to lay into him. “That’s not fair! You’re being unfair!” you cry. “How many girls did you take home while you were away, huh?”

Jake blinks at you, a shade of indignance colouring his features now.

“None.” he tells you, but you can only scoff.

“Right. And how many did you flirt with? How many did you buy drinks for?” he stays silent at those questions, either not wanting to answer or no longer seeing the point in the face of your tirade. You stare at him until your eyesight blurs completely before at last you reel back from him.

Gasping a little at the state you’ve worked yourself into, you turn half away from him and wipe desperately at your eyes.

“Baby–” Jake starts, his fingers brushing your wrist, but you jerk away this time, pulling your hand and your phone to your chest.

“I need to go. I shouldn’t have come,” you tell him, collecting your clothes quickly before escaping into his bathroom.

You can't help but feel a little pathetic as you cry harder once you’re in the relative privacy of his ensuite, a strange but familiar disappointment lancing through you when he doesn't come after you. However upon swinging the door back open once you’re dressed, you find Jake standing in front of his bed, sweatpants now fastened around his hips, and a determined expression on his features.

“I’m not letting you leave like this,” he tells you firmly, as if he has any say in what you do. You scoff at him, but don’t cover up your still dripping eyes. If anything, his resolve seems to strengthen.

“Look, be pissed at me, I deserve it, but I’m not letting you drive home when you’ve been drinking,” his voice leaves little room for argument, and even though in the back of your mind you know he’s actually being the decent version of himself right now, you can’t help but snarl at him in disgust.

“Fine! Then I’ll call an uber. I’m not staying here.'' You're aware you sound a little childish, and you feel a small pang of regret when Jake’s face flashes with hurt that is quickly covered up by sternness. Going against all the signs you’re putting out to him right now, Jake moves forward and stops your movements to find your shoes by laying both hands on your shoulders. When you look up at him, eyes still blinking away tears, he seems sincere and pleading.

“Just… just stay here, I’ll sleep in the lounge, alright? Just don’t go home like this.”

You want to snap at him that he has no right to ask that of you, but somehow you think he already knows that, and is still asking anyway. You realise dully, that just like you always wanted, Jake was chasing you now, though, you aren’t sure you really want it anymore.

“I wasn’t trying to upset you–” he cuts himself off, just as you shrug out of his hold.

“Please do not talk to me right now.” is all you can manage by way of agreeing to his terms.

You can barely bring yourself to look at him as he goes about collecting up his pillow and a spare blanket, and a part of you feels cruel, but the bigger part of you is proud that you’ve finally put your foot down. Maybe at some other time you’d let him talk, but right now all you can think about or hear is every moment prior to this night when he’s hurt you.

You’d hoped you’d at least be able to fall asleep somewhat fast, but the longer you lay there, the longer you go over and over every little detail of your night until you find yourself downstairs, wrapped up in the throw blanket from Jake’s bed, and standing a few feet away from him on the couch. He sits up immediately when he noticed you, chucking his phone down and focusing intently on you. You note he doesn’t open his mouth, or attempt to speak yet, and you almost regret telling him not to earlier.

You stare at one another hard, until you have to suppress a small hiccup, at which point you frustratedly wipe your face with the back of your hand and cross your arms in front of you.

“Why did you do that?” You ask, amazed your voice sounds as firm as it does. Jake stares up at you with a mixture of uncertainty and something you want to say is remorse but you can’t bring yourself to believe right now that he would be.

“I’m not good at this stu—”

“—No, tell me why you did it.” You cut him off, not willing to listen to his self-pity right now. Jake closes his mouth and blinks up at you, staring intently for a few moments before he shifts in his seat. “Did you miss me?” You prompt after he continues to stare, eyes somewhat pleading. You understand relationships and vulnerability are hard for him, you’re willing to give him this olive branch for now. To his credit, Jake immediately nods, his hands coming together across his spread thighs to wring anxiously.

“Yes. I’m sorry—”

“—If you ever try any of that shit again, I’m kicking your ass,” you tell him. Jake blinks, then straightens up, and nods again. Your lip wobbles and this time when he reaches a hand out for you, he doesn’t grab you, but waits for you to shuffle forward toward him before pulling you in.

He tugs you forward to come stand between his legs, and bows his forehead to rest against your abdomen, his hands anchored at your hips.

“I don’t want you to think I don’t want you,” Jake mumbles, loud enough for you to hear, and you know this is a big admission for him.

“I know it probably doesn’t feel like it, but you can just, you know, tell me that…” you reply, letting your hands fall into his hair where you begin to smooth down some of the mess you made of it earlier. “I want you,” you say, realising while he may subconsciously know that, you’ve also never told him before. “I would never have let you mess me around if I didn’t,” you add with a short laugh, and flick his ear gently. Jake huffs, and lifts his head so he’s looking up at you now, chin resting on your belly.

“I don’t want you to date anyone else. I should have told you that back when I realised it…” he says softly, looking for the first time since you’ve known him like holding your eye contact is uncomfortable for him. “Is that okay?” He asks even quieter.

“Only if you don’t half ass it,” you peer down at him with playful scepticism.

Jake’s fingers at your hips tighten and his eyes narrow.

“I don’t half-ass anything,” he tells you sourly, before making a face. “Tonight notwithstanding.” he adds after a moment. You can’t help it then, you chortle, and hold the sides of his face. Jake smiles, seemingly proud of himself for making you laugh, and he adjusts his hold on you, moving his hands down to tug you into him, so your knees buckle and you’re forced to catch yourself on his shoulders just as he manoeuvres you to sit on his thigh.

“I’m sorry,” he says, far more seriously, leaning his forehead against yours now that you’re face to face. You cup his cheeks again, and dip forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“You will be out on the curb so fast if you fuck me around again,” you tell him cheerfully, making him laugh this time.

“Noted,” he says, before he steals another kiss, longer this time.

When he pulls back at last, you feel yourself relax fully against him, and move to rest your head in the crook of his neck.

“Can we go to bed now?” he asks after a few seconds. You nod, stifling a suspiciously timed yawn, and yelp a little when he scoops your legs under his arm and stands, grinning smugly all the way back upstairs.

#jake seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #jake seresin #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin fanfic #jake hangman seresin #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick

[tusks-and-claws]

Now that I got the mean Miguel stuff out of my system, my heart wants softer/domestic Miguel so here are some nsfw(18+) headcanons/imagines under the cut :3

♡ You stay over at Miguel's place for the first time and you decide to wear one of his shirts (after he pulls all your clothes off and has some fun with you) and it's gigantic on you, you're swimming in it, but he's obsessed with the way it hangs from your frame and the way you look in his clothes. You move to the kitchen to make a midnight snack and he can't help but hike up the hem of his shirt while it's on you and bend you over the countertop, his hand on the small of your back. He goes slower than he did earlier because he knows that your muscles are sore. He's so sweet during round two, whispering endearments to you while he impales you on his thick cock all over again. When you eventually have to leave, he waits just a little bit longer than usual to throw that shirt in the laundry. After all, it still smells like you

♡ If you tell him you're sore, he'll run a hot bath for you, but he'll be in there waiting. He watches fondly as you undress, and he sighs contentedly when you submerge yourself and settle between his legs. He holds you close to him, your back against his hard chest, and you can feel the rising and falling of his breaths and the steady beating of his heart. You feel his cock harden and press against your back as his hands travel under the water to touch you. It's not long before his big hands are on your hips, guiding you as you sink down onto his length. He wants to bite your shoulder so badly as you gently rock back and forth on him, but he opts for planting heated kisses there instead

♡ He really isn't very good at cooking, but he's a decent baker. After all, baking really is more of a science. While he's trying a new recipe, he scoops up some of the batter onto his fingertip and holds it out for you to try. It's good, you tell him as much, but he's far too distracted by the way your mouth closed around his finger and lingered there a little too long. You can see the slightly flushed look on his face, and you start pulling his sweatpants down as he backs up against the counter, letting you get to your knees. You feel him get fully hard while he's inside your mouth. He grips the counter with white knuckles. When he cums, and you swallow every drop of him, he brings you back up to your feet and kisses you with abandon. What was he doing? Baking? Who cares anymore

♡ His apartment in Nueva York is so high up, that it's daunting even for people that aren't scared of heights. Getting too close to the windows sometimes makes you nervous, but Miguel assures you there's nothing to be afraid of, that the glass is thick and strong. To prove it to you, he fucks you against it, holding you up with your back to the glass. Your head spins from the skyline in your peripheral vision, but he makes sure you don't look down, saying "eyes on me, I've got you." Not once does he falter as he pumps into you, his strength never betrays you. Suddenly, heights don't seem so scary

#my writing #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #smut #miguel o'hara imagine #idc if this is out of character i needed this #not beta read

[repulsiveliquidation]

Backseat.

Ona Batlle x Reader

Summary : I love cars, I love Ona, wrote about fucking in the back seat. Voila.

//

It was raining in Barcelona, the weekend being a bleak and cold one. It reminded Ona so much of her time in Manchester and the girl she kissed in the rain when she first met her. That same girl was in the garage tinkering with her car that needed an oil change. Ona could occasionally hear grunts and soft swearing in English with the occasional Spanish lilt while she made lunch for the both of you. She thinks back to the time Aitana had a flat in the carpark of the training grounds and no one else knew how to change a tire but you. You happened to have your toolkit in Ona’s car (a spare you made her keep in there for emergencies such as this one) and made quick work of putting the spare on and taking her car to your garage to patch up and put back on. Needless to say, you wore your overalls more often and Ona had a little strange addiction to the smell of grease on you.

She turned the stove off and plated up before poking her head into the garage to find you shoved under the car draining the oil. She stood there and watched for a bit, clearing her throat just as you rolled out from under the car.

“Hello, pretty girl,” you say softly, standing up and wiping your hands on a dirty rag. She blushes, stepping into the room to wrap her arms around your neck. She looks deep into your eyes, hand softly caressing the stray hairs that didn’t make it into the messy bun on your head.

“Hola, mi amor. Lunch is ready, you must be hungry.”

“Starving, I can finish up your car after lunch. Wanna drive to the beach? It’s supposed to stop raining by then; even if it doesn’t stop we can sit in the back and relax.”

She smiled, leaning in to kiss you softly before pulling away and pecking your nose.

“I’d love that.”

She takes your hand and walks you back into the house, dragging you to the couch with a stern “Sit,” before retreating to the kitchen. She walks back out with piping hot bowls of rice (a/n I love my food hotter than the sun idek why) with grilled salmon, avocado and a little pack of seaweed for you. You didn’t move a muscle, grinning happily when she came back, reaching out to help her. She plops herself beside you, turning the tv on. She mindlessly scrolls to find something decent to watch when you’re more than halfway done with your bowl. She notices after she finally picks something to watch, smacking your thigh and huffing, grabbing her bowl and moving to the other corner of the couch. She sulks and mixes her food, pouting as she takes a bite. You chuckle and drink some water before slowly shifting over to her. She glues her eyes to the tv, the Spanish soap opera you could only half understand suddenly very interesting to her. You’re sitting beside her, thighs touching slightly. Your arm snakes around her middle, pulling her into your side. She’s rag-dolling, letting you move her how you please. Your other hand grasps her small waist, pulling her into your lap. She keeps eating and watching her soap, trying her best to ignore your rough hands that slipped under her sweatshirt to rub themselves over her muscular torso. She wiggles in your lap to get comfortable when your lips nibble on her ear with a soft chuckle.

“What are you doing, baby?”

“You’re not really comfortable right now. So, I’m trying to get comfortable.”

“You don’t complain when you sit in my lap and ride my cock to get off now do you?”

She sputters as you gently lift her off your lap and onto the couch. You lean in and kiss her forehead, grinning widely before heading back into the garage to finish fixing her car. She sits there dumbfounded for about 10 minutes before snapping out of her thoughts to clean up. She looks out the window and sees the sky clearing up, deciding to put together a little picnic basket for you both to take to the beach. She just about packs the last sandwich when she feels strong arms wrap around her waist. She leans back into them, feeling a warm pair of lips kiss her ear.

“A picnic basket, boy am I being spoilt today.”

“The weather was clearing up so I thought when we drive up there later we can have a little dinner while watching the sunset.”

“That sounds perfect, angel. The cars done, I’ll pack it up. Go put on a pretty swimsuit hm?”

She giggles and kisses your cheek, running up to the room to change. You shake your head and take the picnic basket to the car, packing all the beach essentials. You walk back inside and head to the bedroom to see Ona pulling on the bikini she knew was your favorite. She sees you walk in the room from the reflection in the mirror, smiling shyly at you. She doesn’t turn, caressing her hands over her body as she watches your expression in the mirror. You smile proudly, slowly walking towards her.

“You like it?” she asks nervously, biting her bottom lip as she asks for your opinion. Your opinion meant the world to her; she hung onto your words with her every being.

“You look gorgeous, babe. So perfect.”

You stand beside her, wrapping your arm around her shoulder to pull her into you with a kiss to the side of her head.

“I’ll be ten minutes baby, be right out.”

She nods, pulling on one of your too big for her small defender body t-shirts that she dug around for. You take a quick shower to rid yourself of grease and grime, pulling your hair back into a fresh messy bun. You walk out to see Ona sitting on the bed with a two piece you don’t recognize. You stand in front of her with your hands on your hips.

“Whose is that?”

“Yours.”

“I don’t remember buying that, unless I was drunk when I did.”

“I bought it for you, silly.”

You pick it up, pulling your towel off to slip into it. Ona ogles at you, eyes nearly popping out of her head. She sees a new tattoo, one that she didn’t know about and one that you forgot you were hiding. She grabs your hand before you pull the swim shorts on, staring at the black ink that spelt out her name on your hip. She reaches out to touch it, your mind realizing where her hand was going. You try pulling away and tugging your shirt down but she touches you before you can.

“What is that?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m not stupid, you’ve got my name tattooed on you.”

“Okay, yes. I have my girlfriends name tatted on me.”

“When?”

“A week ago.”

“Why?”

You grab her right hand and kiss the tattoo inked there.

“Why not?”

//

“Oh bebé, the sea looks lovely,” says Ona when the blue ocean comes into view. She leans over, looking out of your window as you drive down to the beach. You get to the parking lot and find a spot as close as you can while still having the best view of the sunset. Ona hops out excitedly, pulling out the stuff from the back while urging you to hurry. You grab the basket and mats, she runs onto the fairly deserted beach with her bag and your camera. You take your time at the car, preparing a little surprise for her. She finds a nice shady area and you can hear her yelling at you to walk faster, which just makes you take your own sweet time. You finally get to her, putting the stuff down and laying the mat out for her. She sits and pulls her shirt off, sunglasses on her face with a bottle of sunscreen in her hand.

You join her, letting her lather you up in sunscreen before enjoying the cleared-up weather. She drops the sunscreen back into her bag and runs to the water, jumping right into the clear blue sea. You pull out your camera and take a couple photos of her unbeknownst to her, capturing her genuine smile on roll.

She calls for you, you put your camera away and run into the water to join her. She hugs you, splashing you with water as soon as you get close to her. You drop your jaw in shock and a water fight breaks out, she wins (you let her) and she takes your hand to walk back to the mat as the sun is starting to set. Ona grabs a sandwich for herself, handing you half when you sit beside her after drying off. It’s a little chilly, you pull out blankets and wrap one around her that you had packed since you knew she would need one. She kisses your cheek in thanks, you take your half of your sandwich and eat it gratefully. Swimming always made you extra hungry and Ona’s cooking was always delicious.

You shared a bag of grapes, munching on them as the beautiful sunset blessed both your eyes. There was nothing like it, the deep orange sun disappearing behind the blue vast ocean was one thing you would always find beautiful. Ona was enjoying a different view, dark brown orbs staring at you. She had her head propped up by her hand on her knee, soft orange glow casted on her beautifully freckled skin. You had noticed that she was staring a long time ago but chose to ignore it and let her have her fun.

“I brought a camera, the least you could do it take a picture.”

“What? Oh, yes where-where is it?” she said, frantically looking for the camera bag.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered, baby girl.” you tease her, pulling her into your lap like earlier. Your arms hold her tight as she leans back into your body to enjoy the rest of the sunset. You walk back to the car hand in hand, all your stuff split between the two of you. You suddenly remember the surprise and make her stop to close her eyes, packing up the car before taking her to it. You guide her carefully, hands pressed over her eyes as she walks cautiously to the car.

“What are you doing?”

“Just be patient, almost there.”

“This better not be a prank, darling.”

“It’s not, I promise; but you’re giving me ideas. Okay, stop. Open.”

She opens her eyes and her face lights up in shock. You’ve put the seats down in the back of her car, putting in a little mattress topper and pillows with the sunroof wide open. There are string lights and strawberries, a little Bluetooth speaker playing some soft piano music that you like. She steps closer to the car, hand flying over her mouth as she discovers more and more of the stuff you’ve set up. She’s close to tears, eyes flooding with them when she sees the little picture of the two of you in the middle.

“Cariño, I-I don’t know what to say…this is just…so beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it, it was last-minute so it’s not perfect but I did what I could,” you tell her nervously, scratching the back of your head.

She crashes into you, hugging you tight around your shoulders as your hands grasp her waist and pick her up. You spin her around and smile, kissing her passionately. You put her down and hold her, the last bits of the sunset glowing around the two of you. She looks at you with pure love in her eyes; like you were the only on in the world. Your world.

“Get in there, I’ve brought entertainment and we can camp out her tonight too.”

“Really?!” she exclaims as she climbs into the back of the SUV, scooting back into the pillows as you climb in with her. You nod, pulling her close as you settle into the soft duvet and pillows.

You point to the sunroof, as she looks up from where her head rests on your chest. The clear sky gives you both a good view of all the stars, a small heater keeping the car warm and toasty (safely!)

She leans up and kisses you when you start to point out constellations, hand cupping your cheek as she threw her leg over yours carefully. You kiss back slowly, pulling her closer into your arms. The speaker play is playing lo-fi now as the both of you slowly kiss deeper and deeper. Ona whines a little, your hands around her waist pull her to lay of top of you. She straddles you, her head having just enough room to sit up on you. She clutches your shirt and kisses you hard, hips grinding down on you in desperation. Your hands hold her hips, fingers digging into her flesh as she gets off on you. She pulls away from the kiss and buries her face in your neck, pressing her core harder down on you. You gently pull her shirt off and slip her swimsuit top off, untying the back and throwing it to the front of the car. She gasps, sitting up and covering herself. Her entire face goes red in shame as she looks around to see if anyone saw her. You begin to laugh, hand covering your mouth as you chuckle harder and harder. She looks genuinely confused, hands still covering her pretty chest.

“Why the heck are you laughing? People could see me!”

“Babe, do you really think I’d wanna fuck you in your car and let you flash everyone that could pass by?”

“The windows aren’t tinted that dark! What if someone saw me?!”

“Babe they are! I got a new type of tint at the shop that looks light from the inside but no one can see inside the car from the outside. I promise.”

“Is that the prank you mentioned?”

“No, I promise. No one can see you, only I can. You look beautiful as always.”

She blushes again, hands lowering off her chest. You rub her arms softly, settling back into the pillows again. She smiles shyly, leaning down and kissing your neck softly as your hands go back to her hips. You reach back and snap the fabric on her skin to which she yelps prettily, cunt grinding down on your now bare stomach unintentionally. You pull your shirt off and unclasp your swim top, sitting up and kissing her hard. You guided her hips to grind down on you more, her breathy whines filling the confines of the car. She has an iron grip on your shoulders, hips stuttering as she chases her first high of the night.

She chokes out your name, legs trembling a little as she comes off her high. It was less intense than usual, getting her body ready for more arousing events. She grinned widely still, kissing you deeper when you flip her onto her back and hook your fingers on her swim bottoms to pull them off. She lifts her hips a little and grins, pulling you into her and kissing you harder.

“Please tell me you have a surprise around here somewhere.”

“You’ve read my mind, princesa. Close your eyes.”

You kneel in front of her, grabbing the strap from the front seat and putting it on. You manhandle her to lay in the middle of the makeshift bed, pulling her strong legs wide open.

“You can open your eyes, hermosa.”

She opens her eyes and squeals, making grabby hands at you to come into her arms. You shake your head, leaning down and kissing her neck. You mark her up, dark hickeys adorning her freckled olive skin. She bit her lip in an effort to keep her whines to a minimum, failing miserably at keeping her volume down. While the windows were tinted as dark as possible, it wasn’t soundproofed. Anyone passing by would be able to hear her if she was a tad louder.

You kissed slowly down her body, taking her breasts into your hands and kneading them gently as you kissed down the middle of them. You take one of them in your mouth, suckling hard as your tongue swirls around the gradually hardening bud. She pants hard, whining louder and louder as your mouth switches to her other breast. Her back arches off the bed, hands tangled in your hair as she pulls hard. You growl against her hot skin, biting another dark hickey just under her breast. You slowly make your way lower, licking between each dip and valley of her abs. She whimpered and cried out for you, chest heaving and breath hitching as your fingers dipped into her core.

She was wet beyond imagination, arousal pooling at your fingertips. You suckled on her blushing breast while two thick fingers filled her up. Ona keened, eyes filling with tears of ecstasy. They pumped in and out of her gently, your voice softly cooing at her as she gripped your forearm tightly. She began to beg, tears cascading down her perfectly rosy cheeks.

“Please baby, just fuck me already…”

“But I want to take my time with you, pretty girl.” you told her, fingers picking up the pace inside her as her eyes rolled hard back into her head. You knew what that meant and your fingers didn’t waiver; pressing themselves into her sweet spot harder and harder. Your thumb pressed into the clit and rubbed fast circles, fingers pumping furiously into her. You leaned in and lapped at her folds too, increasing the sensations in her core. She was pretty sure she was about to pass out when she came, eyes seeing stars as she felt that coil in her burst and unravel. Her jaw flies open but she doesn’t make a sound. She shuddered deeply and whined, finally calming down.

You lean down and kiss her forehead, smiling when her eyes focus on you again. She looked like she had spaced out for a second, your hands pulling apart her strong legs to settle between them brings her back to reality.

“That was…”

“Just the start baby girl.”

//

“Fuck!”

It was well past 10pm now, there was no one else around but the two of you. The car was very obviously rocking but you didn’t care. Ona had her legs draped over your thighs as you pounded into her. Her back arched off the bed, hands digging their nails into your thighs as she moaned and cried and stuttered. You pull her down onto your cock with each thrust, burying it deeper and deeper into her every time your hips met with her firm ass. You pulled out, flipping her much smaller frame easily. She tried to push her ass up into you, your cock easily slipping back into her much to her pleasure. Ona let out a drawn-out sigh, feeling her core fill up how she wanted it to.

You grabbed her hips and gripped her tight, pounding right into her sweet spot as she moaned louder with each thrust. She struggled to hold herself up, your powerful hips piling her forward. The thing with this strap you had on in particular was that it was like double-ended one. There was a perfectly curved end that sat inside you and with each thrust you gave Ona, you gave yourself too. You were feeling your high coming and knew Ona was close too. You shove three of your fingers into her mouth and she gets to sucking, holding your hand and wetting your fingers with her saliva. She had lots to spare; she was drooling a little with how well you were fucking her.

You pulled them out and used your wet fingers to glide over her swollen clit as fast as you could with how wet she was. She was blabbering; you could make out words that she was begging for you to let her cum. She was on the very edge and with one last flick of your index finger over her exposed clit she came for the third time that night. You kept thrusting, chasing your own high as hers went on for a full 30 seconds. She was in oversensitive territory by the time you came, desperately trying to pull you away as your own orgasm washed over you. You pulled out of her and kissed her hard, pulling her body up to kneel with yours. You held her face and kissed her deeper, her warm hands holding onto your wrists as you kissed her deeper and deeper. She finally pulled away to look at you, licking over her teeth and smiling at you.

“You’re insane,” she says, laying back down on the bed.

“And you’re beautiful,” you tell her, grabbing some wipes to clean both of you up. You help her into clean clothes, before pulling some on yourself. Ona picks a movie on your laptop as you both share another sandwich and feed each other the strawberries.

//

The sun shines through the car early in the morning; Ona stirs first, snuggling into your warm arms as she takes the opportunity to stare at you for a while. You look peaceful and childlike, hands wrapped tight around her middle as she half-lays on top of you. She smiles when your nose twitches, her hand coming up to drag a finger over your warm cheek. You stir slowly, smacking your lips as you adjust to the light. She giggles softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your jaw.

“Bon Dia, mi amor."

“Morning, baby.”

She scoots herself up a little and kisses you softly, hand cupping your cheek affectionately. You pull away and she presses her head to your chest again. She listens to your heart, feeling hers match yours. She sighs and snuggles impossibly closer, closing her eyes again.

“How about we drive on home, get changed and have a little date?” you ask her quietly, to which she simply nods. She sat up with her messed up hair and sun-kissed skin, looking down at you. It took your breath away at how effortlessly gorgeous she was and it made your heart swell at the knowledge that she was yours.

#ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle smut #woso soccer #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #fc barca femeni #fcb femeni #fc barcelona femeni #fluffy smut #woso smut #woso

[gucciforasushirestaurant]

Kinkmas 🎄 № 1: Cockwarming

summary: you kinda (not really) bet harry to ‘no nut november’ and its finally december 1st. 

word count: 2.8k

reading time: 11 min

content warnings: 18+,cockwarming (obviously), teasing, grinding, brief fingering, fluff, clingy reader (and harry tbh), desperate, passionate p in v sex, pet names (baby, lovie). 

a/n: Welcome to Kinkmas!

_____________________________

You had told Harry it was a childish idea. But one thing about Harry, he was stubborn and hard-headed, and if you'd told him not to do something he was going to do anyway….well, he'd just commit to it ten times harder. And that's precisely what he did with No Nut November. 

He'd brought up the idea of participating directly after the two of you had some particularly mindblowing Halloween sex. You were giggling, wrapped up in one another, Halloween costume in pieces, still basking in your orgasm glow when you'd off-handedly joked how you couldn't believe you'd gone so long without sex like you'd grown accustomed to with Harry. He'd agreed, joking that he'd 'implode' without having you at least four times a week. Which led to you challenging him, lovingly calling him pussy whipped, and saying he couldn't last two days without you before he came begging for it. You know, because you've seen it before.  His record was actually three days. 

But still, if you think about it too hard, you'd realize that this, No Nut November, not having had sex with your boyfriend in a month, nonsense is all your own fault. You challenged him, and he swore to No Nut November because he's….Harry, meaning he also committed you to it as well, and now here you are. In bed, counting down the hours until December 1st. Literally. Minute by minute. And hour by hour. You've been trying to distract yourself with a book for the last hour, but you've not retained any of the words your eyes have been scanning despite flipping the pages. All you can think about is how Harry's barely touched you outside of light caresses and feather-light pecks to your lips. For. The. Last. Month. The material you were reading is by no means helping. All the talk of groaping, nipping, and ravishing. They seemed to be the only words you could pay any attention to. 

While you have made your disdain for Harry's unnecessary commitment known, Harry has seemed to be unphased by it all. It was your favorite thing about him and your biggest pet peeve. He was always so nonchalant. About everything, except you! Usually, at least, but much to your surprise, he's been able to contain himself and even turned down your many attempts to break his silly vow early this month. You were disappointed, and it may have led to an even deeper conversation that the two of you needed to have when it came to your relationship with sex and your sex life. And while you were grateful that this silly bet could be a vehicle for you to have that conversation, you were ready for it to all be done. You looked over at the clock on Harry's bedside table. 

One more hour. Forty-five minutes, to be exact.  

Harry was still in the bathroom, going through his nightly routine and trying to get a grip himself. Harry had been strong for 29 days, nearly 30 days. He could make it one more night. But, as Harry wraps the floss around his fingers, he tries to remember why he agreed to do this in the first place. To prove a point, he's sure. What point? He couldn't think of anything else but you to think of a decent answer. But he's noticed. How you've been huffing around the house all month, but especially today, hoping he'd break on the last day and give you what you've been desperate for. How you've been glancing at the clock every forty-five minutes since the sunset. How - 

"Harry, come to bed, will you?" your voice carries into the en suite from the bedroom. He can't help but smirk. You've been slightly whiny all day, all week, really, and he found it so fucking endearing. Knowing that you were just as desperate for him as he was for you. You'd deny it, but this arrangement the past month has been a fun challenge for you. He knows how much you enjoy being teased, and this month has been nothing if not one giant tease.  

So, not wanting to drag out your misery any longer, Harry rushes through the rest of his routine and comes to the doorway, leaning against it, smiling at you and your book, cuddled under the covers. 

"How's the book?" He asks. He always asks. 

"Meh. It's okay, not as good as the first one." You rush out, place your bookmark, and close the pages. You put it on your bedside table, turning off your light, leaving only the lamp on Harry's bedside table to illuminate the room. You pat his spot next to him, a slight pout on your lips when he doesn't budge from his spot leaning against the doorframe. "Harry….come on, bedtime. I'm exhausted." 

"Alright," he chuckles, pushing off the doorframe, "you just remember that." He says, peeping the cute set you'd decided to go to sleep in tonight. It was a silk baby blue, matching set that you'd just bought on a Cyber Monday sale. You figured it'd be the perfect thing to wear to break your temporary celibacy. 

"Remember what?" you question oh too innocently, through a yawn, your eyes already closed. 

"It's bedtime. Emphasis on bed." He flicks off the lamp on his bedside table and slides into bed in his spot behind you. You notice it after a few moments once he's comfortably tucked behind you, an arm around your waist. And you can't help the proud smirk that creeps onto your face. 

Your plan worked! 

You knew that the new set you'd put on, plus a few pouts, would get him hard…..he was almost too easy. So you allow yourself to wiggle around, to 'get more comfortable,' and be positive that you'd feel a grip around your hip, telling you to "be still, and go to sleep." It had happened so many nights this month, but not tonight. His tight grip is there tonight, but it's encouraging your movements. You let out a short gasp, biting your lower lip when you feel Harry's lips on the back of your neck. 

"I thought it was bedtime." you tease.

"It is. I just…..I was thinking…" he mumbles between kisses to your neck and shoulder and nibbles your earlobe.

"...yes.."

"What if I just slip inside. That's not cheating, is it?" 

"It's the last day." you giggle, wanting so badly to give him a taste of his own medicine but quickly losing any remnants of self-control with his lips doing wonders on your neck.

"Exactly, it would suck to come all this way to lose on a technicality, wouldn't it? So what do you think, Lovie? Did we still finish the challenge if I just - put it inside ya? Just missed you wrapped around me, baby." Now it's Harry who's whining, hand tight on your hip, grinding your ass down into his hardening cock. 

You have half a mind to turn him down. After all the struggle you've been through this month, just for him to want to give in on the last day? But he feels so good pressed against you, and his lips are so soft pressed against that spot on your neck that gets you every time. His voice grounds you back down to earth before you can get too lost in the feeling. 

"Baby…" 

"This was your idea," you say earnestly.

"You dared me." 

"I did no such -" Just then, he nipped at your neck before sucking on the sensitive skin under your ear, "No, I didn't. You're just a brat." you giggle, throwing the nickname right back at him…for once. 

He pinches your side with a groan. "Don't be mean. I'm in need here, baby. Come on." He continues his work on your neck, shoulder, anywhere he can reach. After a few moments, though, he's had enough and taps at your hip, signaling you to turn over. You allow him to flip you on your other side, facing him, his lips instantly catching yours. He slots his throat between your thighs, bringing your hips to grind down onto the flexed muscle of his thigh. You can't help but let out a moan of relief that slips from your lips into Harry's mouth, which he swallows for you happily. 

You allow your hands to twist into his curls at the nape of his neck, racking your nails down his scalp, pulling him closer. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you press yourself even further into him, your hips moving on their own accord now. 

"You sure you want to - wanna give up." you taunt, nipping at his bottom lip. 

"I. don't care. Need you. Please." 

In that moment, you realize that all he needed to do was beg. All he ever needs to do is beg, and you are absolute putty in his hands. 

You pull back from his lips just a few centimeters, leaning your forehead on his. But Harry was starved, chasing after your lips with his, nipping at your lips. 

"Please, baby." 

It was unnecessary, now. Harry's begging. You were already going to give him what he wanted, but the prayer rolling off his lips still makes your stomach flip. 

"S'not cheating." you rush out before crashing your lips to his once again, eating his moans. 

Suddenly, the two of you are a mess of limbs, trying to rid each other of your clothes. Granted, it was just your silk sleep set and his boxers, but the two of you refusing to separate lips made things much more difficult. Once you were both rid of the barriers, Harry rolled on top of you, burying himself in your shoulder, running his nose up your neck, nipping his way up, and moving his hips into yours. He lets out a hiss as his tip nudges at your clit, wet with your arousal from grinding down on his thigh.

"Fuck, baby." he takes his hand from your hip, snaking it between you two, "Gotta get you ready for me, okay?" He moans, leaning his forehead on hears, with a sweet peck to the pout that's made its way to your lips when you realize what he is doing. 

"Harry - just -" 

"It's been a month. You're not changing my mind, hey. Look at me." He says, nudging his nose to yours, "I'm right here. You just relax and take what I give you. Got it?" when you nod, without a word, he slips one of his thick fingers inside. "Got it?" 

"Mhm. yeah. Sorry." you moan, curling yourself into Harry's neck. 

"It's okay. Just relax; gotta fit me in there, yeah?" Harry coos at you, skillfully working his finger in and out of you. "Talk to me, baby. Missed you too much." 

"Missed you too, Harry -" You force yourself away from him enough to turn your head towards him to capture his lips in a searing kiss. "Missed you so much, you have no idea." you plead, "Please, more." You whimper, rolling your hips into his hand, and he obliges, slowly pushing in a second digit. 

"What do we say?" 

"Thank you," you whine out, rolling your head back on your pillow, allowing Harry the room to mark up your neck like he's been waiting for all month. 

"And, Lovie?" 

"Hmm." you hum, blinking up at Harry. 

"No coming," he smirked down at you, one hand between your legs and his other arm propping himself up on his elbow. You huff at him but nod your understanding, turning yourself into his neck for comfort while his fingers work you open. "There, you go, baby." He coos as he feels you relax on his fingers, making him want to add a third just for…safety. And he does, enjoying the cute noises bubbling up your throat with each drag of his fingers. "You're doing so good, baby. You think you're ready for me?" 

You nod frantically, rolling your hips up into his hand to convince him. "Yes, always ready. Please." 

He plants a deep kiss on your lips, pulling his fingers out of you, swallowing your moan in protest. He pulls away, licking his fingers clean, before maneuvering himself back, hovering over you. Harry grabs ahold of himself at the base, allowing you to roll your hips up, your clit rubbing up and down the tip of his cock.  

"Shhh, baby. I'm gonna give it to you but remember, I'm just - fuck - just filling you up, okay. Gotta stay still, I'm okay?" He huffs, nipping at your jaw, placing kisses anywhere he can reach. 

"Yes. Please, Harry, just -" 

"Stay still, baby," he smirked, holding your hip into the mattress. When he's satisfied with your limited wiggling, he slowly runs his tip up and down your folds a few times, lining himself up before slowly pushing inside, inch by inch. "Oh, Lovie." he groans into your mouth, "Missed you so much." he licks at your bottom lip, begging for entrance, wanting to be wholly consumed with you, and you allow him to be. When he's fully seated inside, you tighten your legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders, burying your face in his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of being so full. The heaviness of him, how deep he was. It was heavenly. You enjoy his lips, kissing, and his teeth nibbling, his voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Enjoying the feeling of Harry. And with his lips working magic all over? You weren't sure how much longer you could just allow him to be in you without him being in you.  

"Harry," you whine, "Please move." 

"I can't." 

"Yes, you can," you grumble, shifting your hips up to meet his, just for him to hold you back down. 

"Stay still," he begs, now because he's losing his resolve and his slow ability not to finish inside you, with the way you're wrapped around him, rolling your hips and squeezing - but he's made it far. He can't give up now, not when he's so close - god, is he already tight? Just from being buried in you for a couple of minutes? You are quite literally fluttering around him, but still, he shouldn't - 

"No. Harry, look. You can move - look." you insist, turning your attention to the alarm clock on his bedside table. 

12:02 AM

In blinking red numbers. 

"This stupid bet is over, please, Harry - oh." 

He only hesitated a split second, trying to wrap his mind around what his eyes were seeing. But once it clicked. It clicked. And his hips seemed to be on autopilot, the way they slowly and sloppily rolled against yours, quickly coming up with a pace that worked magic for you both as he ground his pelvis into your clit. 

"Fuck, baby - you feel so fucking good." He moans, leaning his forehead against yours, your head cradled between his forearms. "I missed you so much." 

"I missed - I missed you too." you barely get the words out before you feel it creeping up on you, the tightening in your belling and tingling at the base of your spine. "I'm -" 

"I know, baby, me too. Shit." He hisses, kissing down your neck, speeding up his hips. You wrap your fingers in his hair, giving it an encouraging tug that you know he always appreciates. To which he groans in your neck, and you revel in it. You're so close that your skin starts to prick with heat, and all you can sense is Harry. "Come with me. Please, Lovie." Harry begs, so you do. 

You come with a bright white light flash behind your lids, your eyes snap shut, and you hold onto Harry as he holds onto you, groaning into the juncture between your shoulder and neck, biting his own lip. 

A few moments later, you're still on cloud nine. You're floating, weightless, as Harry cleans up the mess between your legs, not before admiring at first, though. 

"You are such a freak." you giggle, swatting Harry away and closing your knees together. "Clean me up or let me do it, but please don't -." 

"Don't, what? I like seeing the mess I've made." He smirks. You roll your eyes as he opens your legs and begins work cleaning you up. 

"Thank you," you murmur through a yawn. Already drawing the covers over you. Harry cleans himself off, tossing the rag on the floor to the foot of the bed, promising to put it away in the morning. 

"Sorry, by the way. Didn't mean to make the first time we had sex in a month a quicky." he chuckles, climbing into bed with your wrapping himself around your naked form. "I don't know what I expected to happen, though. Don't let me do that again." He sighs, planting a kiss on your cheek. 

"Never." 

🎄🎄🎄🎄

kinkmas 2023 masterlist

vote on day 2′s prompt here

🎄🎄🎄🎄

#harry styels x reader #harry x reader #harry x y/n #harry styels x y/n #harry x yn #harry styles x yn #harry smut #harry styles smut #harry fluff #harry styles fluff #dark harry #dark harry styles #harry angst #harry styles angst #Harry fanfic #harry styles fanfic #harry fics #harry styles fics #harry fic #harry styles fic #harry fanfic #kinkmas #kinkmas 2023 #kinkmas 23 #harry styles kinkmas #harry kinkmas #harry styles kinkmas 2023 #harry kinkmas 23 #my writing #my masterlists

[bandgie]

That Seungmin ficccc 😍, if you can/ are comfortable with it can you do a mini part two when he does use y/n in her sleep, and slightly gaslights her into thinking it is a dream. Only if your comfy with that type of stuff. Amazing writing tho, have a good day!! 💙☺️

a/n: hi anon yes! thank you so much (fic anon is referring to here)

warnings: MDNI 18+, NONCON SOMNO, intoxication (fem!&male!), just read the ask man

1.1k words

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡

Truthfully, Seungmin just liked watching you sleep. It was just relaxing to him. How gently your chest would rise, how still you would be deep in slumber. You looked peaceful, content, pretty.

Just like now, though Seungmin's intentions are far less endearing. Both of you had drank a decent amount last night due to the baseball game on. No, you didn't know a whole bunch about the sport, but you'd never pass the opportunity to have a drink or two.

He's kneeling at your bed, watching your face. He's making sure there's no sign of you waking up, no twitch in your eyebrow to indicate that you're still somewhat awake. Seungmin deems you sound asleep once he blows on your face and you give no reaction.

Standing to his feet, Seungmin makes his way to the foot of the bed. He carefully places a knee on the bed, feeling how the cushion dips under his weight. He pauses for a few seconds before continuing, crawling over your lower half.

You're laying flat on your back, head turned to the side with your hands limp besides your head. Your nude legs are slightly parted, a simple underwear covering your cunt. Seungmin can see the mound, the sight making his mouth water.

He manages to get on his knees. Seungmin wastes no time in pulling his boxers down, pulling out his flaccid cock. 

This is wrong. This is dirty. Yet, he can't find it in himself to stop as he pulls your panties to the side. 

Fuck, you're so pretty. Your pussy lips tucked nicely, clearly not aroused in the slightest. Mindlessly, Seungmin pumps himself with his other hand. No amount of cameras could compare to the beauty of your physical body. So warm, so soft, so pliant. 

Seungmin carefully hovers over you just enough so the tip of his cock can rub against your clit. He quietly moans at the feeling of your hot cunt, daring to dip his dick just a little deeper.

Then you move, a quick jolt in your leg. 

He freezes, holding his breath as he patiently waits for you to stop moving. 

Idiot, he thinks. Of course she'll wake up.No, no. Not if you're careful.

Seungmin pulls his cock away from your cunt and replaces it with his thumb. Maybe his dick is too much, he might just as to settle with using his hand. 

He rubs your nub in gentle circles, round and round until he starts doing it to himself. 

What are you doing!? He screams at himself internally. Stop before you get caught! You won't get caught. The other voice soothes him. If you just do it slowly, she'll stay asleep.

The internal battle in Seungmin's mind persists. It seems as though he has a winner though, because his thumb had grown gold and dipped a little further. 

He can feel your entrance, how it slightly twitches. Seungmin has one hand rubbing your pussy and the other hand rubbing his cock. It's so easy for him to get lost in the feeling of your warm cunt and his building pleasure. He doesn't even seem to notice how much harder he's begun to rub circles and how you've started to stir awake. 

"Ughhh," you groan tiredly. It takes a long time for your eyes to adjust to the darkness. Your head slightly pounds from your abrupt wakefulness. You have to blink a few times before you make out the figure over you. 

"Seung?"

Oh shit. He stops. A million excuses run through his mind when he locks eyes with you. What should he say? What should he do? He can hear that same voice in his head saying 'I told you so' while the other is desperately trying to come up with lies.

"Sleeping," he finally manages to say. "It's just a dream. Shh~, go back to sleep."

You would normally question your dream Seungmin further, but the sleepy paradise you were in calls to your attention more. You nod drowsily, "Mmm, k." You lay your head comfortably on the pillow, relaxing your legs to let dream Seungmin continue.

"Feels good," you hum.

To say that Seungmin is shocked would be an understatement. He can't bother to move as he watches you fall back asleep. It looks as though you're smiling, as if happy he's there violating you. Maybe you are happy, you did say it felt good after all.

As a test, Seungmin places his tip back into your pussy, waiting to see you move.

You don't.

There's no patience in him while he humps you. His length sinks low enough to collect your slick before bringing it back up to your clit. Everything's gotten slippery, making it all the easier for Seungmin to glide his cock against you.

He uses one hand to apply pressure on his dick. He softly groans at the feeling. Seungmin's hips move at a quick pace, a complete 180 from how gentle he was previously being. This time, he wants to hear you, he wants to see how your body reacts to him.

Putting it in may be a bit too much. There's no way he could find his way out of that one. Even then, Seungmin is more than content to use with you like this.

You've started to move just a bit more. Hips jolting upwards and mewls leaving your tired lips. Your reactions get Seungmin riled up. The last remaining underwear you have is getting soaked in both of your arousals. It's soon to be soaked with his cum from how close he's getting.

Seungmin voices a sequence of moans before finishing on your cunt. The ropes of cum color you pussy a pretty milky white, your panties sharing the same hue. He uses his cock to spread the orgasm even more, watching how your pussy twitches from the stimulation.

It's not enough for Seungmin to get his cum on your clit no, he needs to put in you too.

With a slender finger, he collects droplets of cum before it vanishes deep into your cunt. He prods at your opening before sliding his finger in. 

Seungmin gasps at the feel of your pussy, how much it's convulsing. He feels bad for leaving it neglected. You wanted something to clench on so desperately, you're taking just one of his fingers so eagerly.

He thrusts the cum deep inside you, wiggling his digit within your walls. 

You whine when he pulls away, slipping your stick underwear back on. Seungmin shoves his half-hard dick into his boxers before getting off the bed. He makes sure to cover you with your sheets, he doesn't want you getting sick.

He does, however, leave you confused in the morning. You're sitting in crusted underwear from what you can only assume is your own cum. And a weird, vivid memory of Seungmin.

a/n: hope you liked it! and happy thanksgiving lmaoo

#smut #dark fic #skz #stray kids #skz smut #skz changbin #skz hyunjin #skz lee know #skz seungmin #skz felix #skz imagines #skzsmut #skz han #skz x reader #skz bang chan #lee know smut #seungmin skz #seungmin x reader #stray kids seungmin #seungmin smut #seungmin x you #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz in #skz channie #kim seungmim #seungmin #skz asks #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut

[doumadono]

I am your annoying lil friend, so I also jump in yet another time with yet another request... but since we are celebrating… LET'S DO THIS!

❛ missed my touch that much, did you? ❜ in form of a little fic with...

Kiribaku x fem!reader :3 bc why not!

I can just imagine our poor reader missing her two Pros while they are away on a mission or something like this. After coming back, they have to make up for time they were away :3

A sultry greeting - Bakugo x Kirishima x Reader

Warnings: oral (m receiving), unprotected & rough p in v, dirty talking, Bakugo & Kirishima are aged up 21+, f!reader, bukkake, dom!Bakugo, boys kissing at the end Synopsis: after a long mission, Kirishima and Bakugo return home, ready to make up for their absence to you A/N: kocham cię mocno! I hope you'll enjoy ♥

MASTERLIST

You stood at the window, gazing at the starlit sky, your thoughts consumed by the absence of Kirishima and Bakugo. They had been away on a critical mission for the past few weeks, leaving you to miss their touch and presence dearly. Every night felt colder without them, and you longed for the warmth of their embrace.

One evening, your heart skipped a beat as you heard the familiar sound of footsteps approaching the front door. Rushing down the stairs, you flung open the door and saw Kirishima and Bakugo standing there. Their smiles widened upon seeing you, and before you could say anything, Kirishima swept you into a tight hug, lifting you off your feet.

"Long time no see, princess," he greeted you with a tender kiss placed to your cheek.

"Kiri!" you giggled loudly and looked above his shoulder at Bakugo who was leaning casually against the wall, smirking. Your heart swelled with happiness. You didn't realize how much you had missed them until that moment.

After getting inside your shared apartment and having a first decent meal in a while, they told you about their adventures and the challenges they faced on the mission. You listened attentively, feeling a mix of pride and worry for their well-being. As the night went on, the conversation turned lighter, filled with laughter and teasing.

Finally, after the dishes were done, you found yourselves alone in the living room.

Kirishima and Bakugo exchanged a knowing glance, and then Kirishima took your hand, leading you to the couch. The atmosphere became charged with affection and desire.

"Let us make up for the time we were away," Kirishima said softly, brushing his lips against your temple.

A faint "yes" escaped your parted lips. As your fingers firmly gripped the collar of Kirishima's shirt, you drew him nearer, and with intense passion, your lips met in a fiery kiss. Your tongue eagerly explored the space between his parted lips, igniting a fervent connection between you both.

"Hey! You've got some nerve, being all cuddly and sweet with the fucking Red Riot, ignoring me while I'm here, too," Bakugo growled, raising an eyebrow as he crossed his arms, approching the couch.

You laughed, knowing he was just needy. "You know I missed both of you equally, Katsuki. You're just as cuddly when you want to be."

His cheeks reddened slightly, but he didn't let his guard down. "Don't get any weird ideas, idiot. I'm not that soft."

Kirishima chuckled. "Come on, man, you are a little mushy at times."

Bakugo scowled at him. "Tch, whatever. I just missed her, that's all."

You leaned closer to him, smirking as you reached out and took his calloused hand in your palm. "Missed me and my touch that much, did you?"

He grumbled, trying to hide his smirk. "Shut up. It's not like I needed it or anything, dumbass."

But his actions spoke louder than his words. He took a seat on your left side and found every opportunity to steal kisses from you, his touch becoming more affectionate and possessive. Bakugo sometimes was yanking you out of Kirishima's arms, just to hold you a little longer in his strong arms.

Soon, you found yourself sitting on Bakugo's lap, leaning comfortably against his broad chest as he lovingly wrapped his arms around your waist. A low, affectionate growl escaped his throat, and you could feel his longing for you as he gently humped against you. Responding to his yearning, you pressed back into him and tilted your head, inviting the flurry of tender kisses that trailed along your neck, eliciting a soft moan from you.

With each open-mouthed kiss, Katsuki's hands caressed your body, hidden under the delicate fabric of your silky nightdress. One hand found its place on your breast, while the other gently gripped your chin, tilting your head back so you could gaze up at him. Bakugo leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. You instinctively parted your lips, allowing his tongue to take control of yours. His hand released its grip on your chin and joined his other hand in rubbing your breasts. As your nipples hardened and pressed against the fabric of your nightdress, his fingers immediately found them and tightened around them.

Kirishima sat right beside Bakugo, closely observing the scene while palming himself through his dark cargo pants that already grew too tight. "I'm here too, princess," he reminded as ne of his hands stealthily slipped beneath your nightgown and moved up your thigh. Kirishima chuckled abruptly, amused by the discovery that you weren't wearing any underwear as hi calloused index finger circled your clit lazily. "Oh, you little naughty shit."

Bakugo wasted no time in lifting the back hem of your nightdress, revealing your alluring ass that never failed to catch eyes. "You're such a naughty slut indeed, going without panties," he remarked while unzipping his pants. "Now, get rid of this tatter and on your knees."

As a compliant and dutiful girl, you adhered to Bakugo's order and gracefully vacated his lap. Positioning yourself before the couch, you began to undress sensually, swaying your hips in sync with the rhythm resonating in your mind, aiming to be as seductive as it was possible. As your nightdress cascaded to the floor, you gracefully sank to your knees.

Bakugo exchanged a glance with Kirishima, prompting them to stand up together. Subsequently, Kirishima proceeded to remove his shirt, and Bakugo followed suit. Soon, they shed their pants and boxers as well. Both men possessed impressive physiques, boasting well-built, toned arms and legs, accompanied by a sets of defined six-pack abs.

However, what truly captured your focus were their cocks. While they weren't fully erect, their impressiveness was still undeniable. You blushed.

"Oh, look, Kacchan," Kirishima mused, "our doll is blushing! Isn't she the cutest little girl?"

Bakugo nodded, running his tongue along his lower lip. "Indeed, she's an adorable fucking pet. I've trained her, after all, ha!"

You took their cocks in your palms and started pumping them. Soon, you leaned to Kirishima and slowly swirled your tongue around the head of his cock.

Kirishima let out a low growl, quietly uttering a string of curses to himself.

You continued to massage the head of his cock with your tongue, and moved your hands down to his balls and fondled them while stroking Katsuki's shaft with your other hand. Soon yet you let go of Kacchan's cock to take proper care of Kirishima. You could feel Kirishima's cock start to slowly harden in your hand and it only encouraged you to take on more. As you took the tip into your mouth, you let out a low moan at the taste of his salty precum. It sent a shot of heat straight to your core as you continued to lavish him in your mouth.

Bakugo firmly grasped a handful of your hair, pulling your head back. "Tch, remember, there are two of us," he growled sharply.

You instantly wrapped your lips around Katsuki's tip and slid your mouth further down the throbbing shaft, your lips stretching as your hand shifted down to the base of his cock and slowly pumped it. As you bobbed your head up and down, your spit began trailing down his cock. You came up for air and used both of your hands to jerk his cock quickly, making sure the whole length was coated in your saliva before diving back in and bobbing your head vigorously.

In the meantime, Kirishima slowly caressed his shaft with his hand, grunting, slipping his other hand in your hair, massaging your scalp.

"Fuck yeah, dumbass, sucking my fucking cock so good," Katsuki growled, slowly bucking his hips to facefuck you. He kept both hands on the back of your head, groaning each time he felt his cock press up against the back of your throat. Each time you gagged and moaned, he felt his self-control slipping even more. "Fuck yeah, cunt. That's it. Fuuuck!"

With a loud "pop" sound, you removed Bakugo from your mouth and shifted your focus to Kirishima. As you looked up at the red-haired man with your most innocent doe-eyes, you gracefully moved your head back and forth along his thick, already throbbing shaft.

"Yeah, such a good girl, just like that, keep doing those stuff with your sweet mouth," Eijiro growled, his eyes never left your beautiful face. He tightened his hold on your hair as you dug your nails into his thighs and forced your mouth forward, taking his full length in and holding your mouth down, gagging yourself. The feeling of your throat gripping his shaft and your lips kissing the base of his cock had his eyes rolling a little. "Fuck! M'gonna fucking cum!"

After a few seconds of this, you pulled back and sat on your knees, panting, appreciating your handiwork as you eagerly stroked Kirishima and Bakugo's cocks, smirking at them.

"Enjoying yourself, huh?!" Bakugo growled lowly and caught yur elbow, yanking you efortlessly up.He positioned you on the couch, on all fours, with your ass sticking up in the air as you rested your head on your arms that were gripping the back of the couch. He firmly gripped your hips and directed his rock-hard cock towards your dripping entrance, then eased into you with one powerful thrust. "Fuck you, bitch! So fucking tight!"

You gripped the back of the couch hard as Katsuki's cock pressed deeper into your needy cunt until his entire length was inside of you. He rapidly pulled back until just the tip was inside, then rammed it back into you, making you cry out his name. "Fuck, Katsuki!"

"Address me properly!" Bakugo snarled, smacking your ass hard enough to leave a handprint on the plush flesh.

"AH!" You moaned loudly. "S-sorry, Mr Dynamight!"

"That's fucking better, dumbass," Bakugo growled lowly, delivering few more smacks to your ass.

Eijiro positioned himself on his knees before you, his hands gently holding your hair as he moved closer, trusting himself into your mouth, which you willingly opened for him. As he pressed against your lips, your body inadvertently nudged back against Bakugo, leading to both of you emitting low grunts of surprise. "My good doll," Kirishima praised.

In response, Bakugo firmly grasped your wrists and pinned your arms behind your back, maintaining a raw, primal rhythm as he fucked you, shoving you forward on Kirishima's cock with each of his powerful thrusts.

Kirishima was letting loose all his pent up lust on your mouth, stroking your chin as he was slowly thrusting back and forth. "My good, little doll, just like that, suck daddy's cock like a good girl you are. That's it princess. Fuck you take us both so well. You're such a good girl."

You could tell they were getting closer. Their thrusts were growing erratic and their cocks felt like they were trying to pierce your insides.

As you attempted to speak, Eijiro withdrew himself from your mouth, asking, "What's on your mind, princess?"

"I want you both to cum on my face, pretty please?" After looking at Kirishima, you looked above your shoulder at Bakugo, making the most innocent eyes.

Bakugo let out a furious roar, but he still managed to nod as he withdrew his cock out of your abused cunt. "Switch, I want her mouth now," he commanded, casting a gaze at Kirishima.

Swiftly switching positions, you found yourself being taken from behind by Eijiro, while your mouth remained occupied by Katsuki's shaft.

"Oh my goodness, she's so tight!" Kirishima exclaimed cheerfully, gently rubbing your hips where Bakugo's touch had left some bruises earlier.

"Of course she fucking is, you idiot! We trained her diligently, after all!" Bakugo exclaimed, thrusting viciously into your mouth, gagging you with his throbbing length; the tip of his cock kissed the back of your throat with every thrust, making your eyes rolling back.

Bakugo, sensing he was approaching his peak, intensified his thrusts, gripping your head firmly. "Take it, take it, fucking cunt," he growled, relishing the sight of your teary eyes and saliva dripping down your chin.

You exerted maximum effort to pump your hand up and down on Katsuki's cock while sucking him off while trying to maintain your balance amidst the forceful thrusts delivered by Eijiro.

"Fuck, I'll fucking cum!" Kirishima reached around you and circled your clit with his index finger. "But I want you to cum on my cock first, princess, I know you can."

Kirishima's words triggered your orgasm, causing your insides to tighten around his shaft and your juices covered him in extreme wetness and slickness.

Both Kirishima and Bakugo withdrew.

You were nudged by Bakugo and managed to find find balance and kneel on your knees as the pair of men stood on both sides of you. You immediately reached out and started stroking their cocks furiously, using your juices and saliva as a lubricant to easily work their throbbing dicks. "Mm, yeah, suck Red Riot's cock, dumbass. Taste yourself on him, slut," ordered Bakugo.

"Yes, Mr Dynamight," you said before leaning over and engulfing Kirishima's cock between your lips, quickly bobbing your head up and down on him while using your hand to stroke whatever wasn't in your eager mouth.

"Holy shit!" Eijiro howled in pleasure as he gripped your hair. "She's about to make me fucking cum!"

Then, your focus shifted to Katsuki, and you teased his throbbing shaft with your mouth, swirling your tongue around his tip until he got all riled up.

"That's it, bitch, suck my cock, suck it. Fuck, nngh!" Katsuki snarled, his head rolled back. "Fuck!!!! Cumming, cumming!!!"

The first rope of cum shot out and splattered across your face, followed by another that smacked you in the cheek and another that landed in your mouth as you sat there holding it wide open for Katsuki. His cum quickly sputtered out and you took the head between your swollen lips, sucking out what was left.

Just when you had finished enjoying your treat, your head was yanked away by your hair and you were forcibly turned to face Eijiro, who held his cock over your flushed face and stroked it as he came on you, groaning the whole time. Unlike Bakugo's load, which shot out in a couple of large spurts but died out pretty quick, Kirishima's cum came out in multiple, short bursts that painted your face. He used his hold on you to move your head around, making sure he got some of his cum on every inch of it. "Fuck, holy fucking shit!"

Suddenly, Bakugo firmly grasped Kirishima's chin, drawing him into a passionate and intense kiss. The kiss was electric, fueled by a combination of desire, and genuine affection. Their lips met with urgency, their breaths mingling as they explored each other with fervor. It was a passionate dance of tongues and lips, a display of raw emotion and connection. The intensity of the moment left them both breathless. Eijiro moaned in the heated kiss offered by Katsuki.

When Kirishima was done cumming, he released your head and you sat back on the floor, your back against the couch. Unable to contain your immense joy, you let a huge smile spread across your face, completely content with how your night had unfolded.

The two men collapsed onto the couch, each sitting on one side of you, and the trio panted heavily, still catching their breaths.

Kirishima rolled his head back, finding support against the back of the couch. "Damn, I'm so damn exhausted."

Bakugo let out a frustrated sigh and rolled his eyes. "Tch! Quit complaining like that, pussy boy. The night's still young, and we were gone for so long. We've got to make up for it now, you fucking idiot."

Kirishima let out a dark chuckle. "Yeah, I get it, I get it. Take it easy, man. So, how about another round?"

#kiribaku x reader #kiribaku smut #kiribaku #bakugou smut #kirishima smut #kirishima x reader #bakugou x reader #kirishima x you #bakugou x you #katsuki x reader #eijirou x reader #katsuki bakugo fic #eijirou kirishima fic #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #mha bakugou #mha kirishima #bakugo smut #mha x reader #bnha x fem!reader #bnha x you #x reader #divider by cafekitsune

[seungkw1]

car ride — bsk

[18+ mdni] wc: 1.4k

the car door shuts behind your boyfriend as he enters the backseat. he signals to the driver - the car begins to move.

the dinner had been fine, the food was decent and the company was tolerable. you don't mind these company outings with his coworkers, but they're never particularly exciting.

tonight, however, you had an agenda. 

you took your time getting ready beforehand - making it a point to distract seungkwan by walking around in your underwear, trying to seduce him to abandon the plans so he could fuck you all night instead. but, this dinner was a particularly important one, so you knew you had to give it up and cooperate. the look on his face as he sat on the bed and watched you get dressed, however, informed you that his mind was in the same place as yours. 

at the bougie restaurant, your hand kept slipping over to his lap under the tablecloth. you didn't do anything more than that - just gently caressed his muscular thigh that you find incredibly attractive (he is well aware of this fact - you tell him frequently). he maintained his composure, conversing easily with all the important people at the company as his outgoing nature allows. but, the way he kept grabbing onto your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours as he held you against his thigh, and the subtle glances he flashed at you from time to time were a dead giveaway: he too wanted to get the fuck out of there.

he was outwardly at ease as you waited for the driver to pull the car up, cordially bidding adieu to his coworkers. but now that you’re alone in the car with him, the look on his face tells you he has been restraining himself for hours now - and he’s not about to let you get away with teasing him all night like that. 

you bite your lip to conceal your smile at the thought of what he’s going to do to you for it. he notices anyway. 

“proud of yourself, are you baby?” he says as he reaches over, cupping your face in his hand lightly. 

you bat your eyelashes at him to taunt him further as you play dumb. “i don't know what you mean, babe.”

his grip tightens gently on your face, grasping your chin as he draws your face into his, his lips lingering immediately before yours. 

“oh i think you do, love.”

you try to kiss him, your lips desperate to taste his, but he holds your face firmly, not allowing you to do so just yet. you pout and make your saddest puppy eyes at him. he smirks back at you as he licks his lips. 

leaning forward he knocks twice at the driver. the driver receives the signal, and rolls up the partition. with a click the opaque black screen locks into place. privacy at last. 

he turns back to you. as his one hand cradles your face, the other makes its way to the bulge that has quickly formed in his pants. palming his cock through his trousers, he kisses you slowly. as his kiss grows more passionate he reaches for your hand, drawing it to the hardening bulge. you feel its weight in your hand, its thick shape hardening further as you caress it. he lets out a low hum, his mouth vibrating against yours. 

you whine as he breaks free from your kiss, but he begins to unbuckle his belt, looking at you with intense lust in his eyes. he doesn't even need to say anything - you obediently slide off the seat, taking your place on your knees between his legs. he pulls his cock out, giving it a few strokes as his free hand begins to gather your hair at the back of your head. he grasps your hair in his fist, pulling on your head - forcing you to look up at him. holding his cock he traces the head over your lips - you stick your tongue out slightly, licking up the precum that has formed at its tip. you take the very end of his cock between your lips, sucking ever so slightly. you don't take your eyes off him - you watch him watching you, the expression on his face carnal as you lick the end of his cock. 

“think you can get away with trying to turn me on all night like that?” you take the head in your mouth, wetting it as your tongue dances across it. “you should know better than that, baby girl.” he pushes down on your head - you take the rest of his length in your mouth, gagging on him, your eyes locked into his as you swallow him to his base. 

“but you like this, don't you baby.” he pulls your hair, guiding your mouth back up his length before pushing down again. “you like acting like a little brat so that i’ll have to teach you a lesson.” your pace increases as you continue to move your mouth up and down his length - but his grip on your hair doesn't loosen. “you like having my cock in your pretty little mouth, don't you.”

you look up at him, nodding, teary eyed, unable to answer with his size filling up your throat. he leans his head back onto the seat as you swallow his cock, up and down - letting out low moans as his hips begin to buck slightly. before long you feel his cock throbbing against your lips, desperate to cum. 

“oh fuck, that's my good girl,” he groans, his voice low and gravelly. “gonna cum baby.”

his hips thrust upward as you feel him release, warm white ropes hitting the back of your mouth as he holds your head down, moaning as he pushes his cock further into your throat. it pulsates in your mouth as you feel him start to come down from his high, giving you every last drop of his cum. his grip on your hair loosens - he strokes your hair as his body relaxes into his seat. you slowly remove his length from your mouth, sucking gently as you go, swallowing all of his cum. 

you give his skin a few soft kisses as his cock rests against his stomach, still throbbing slightly. he then pulls you back up, pushing you into the seat as his hand slides under your skirt, running up your inner thigh. he reaches your cunt, tracing his fingers over your thoroughly soaked underwear. he lets out a low hum. 

“i knew you were turned on baby, i didn't realize you were this desperate.”

you whimper as he slips two fingers under the fabric, feeling the wetness of your folds. his fingertips graze over your clit - it pulsates instantly at the stimulation, so sensitive from being needy all night. your hips begin to rock back and forth at the rhythmical sensation. you feel his lips against your neck, giving you soft little pecks as his fingers circle your bud. then, he slides his fingers into your dripping cunt - you moan as he begins to fuck you, his long fingers curving perfectly to hit you in just the right spot. he slides in and out of you, the sensation sending you over the edge. your orgasm rapidly approaches - your body begins to shake as your walls squeeze around his fingers. 

“fuck, i'm cumming, seungkwan-”

you cry out at the waves of pleasure that overtake your whole body, screaming his name as you cum on his fingers. every nerve in your body is electrified as you ride out your high - you're a moaning whimpering mess. you start to come down - he slows his pace, his fingers sliding in and out of you steadily now, your soaked core throbbing. 

your body relaxes, sinking into your boyfriend’s side. he slowly pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them up to his mouth and lapping up every last bit of your juices. he pulls you into a warm embrace, kissing the top of your head. 

“you know,” you say after several blissful moments of silence, “i'm not entirely sure if this thing is soundproof.” you gesture to the raised partition. 

seungkwan laughs, the musical sound dancing in your ears. “oops.”

“whatever,” you say with a smile. “that was absolutely worth it.”

“my baby feels good?” he asks you, his arm wrapped around you rubbing you softly. you feel the car slow to a stop. 

“soooooo good,” you giggle. 

“perfect,” he says as he takes your chin in his hand, pulling your face up to look at him - a mischievous grin lighting up his face. “because i'm not done with you yet.”

—

a/n: he posted that picture of him in the car today and i actually lost my fucking mind. i simply had to write this or i was gonna explode. my fellow boosadans - this one's for you <3

#ren's fics ੈ♡₊˚•. #boo seungkwan #seungkwan x reader #seungkwan smut #seungkwan imagines #seungkwan scenarios #seungkwan fics #svt fics #svt smut #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen fics #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines

[griffintail2]

Wolf in Duck's Clothing (Part 4)

Summary: A small child sinner tries to navigate her way through Hell.

Pairings: Lucifer x Child!GN!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Implied Trauma, Implied Past Bad Caretaker

<<First <Last -- Next>

A/N: Omg there's so many of you enjoying-- Thank you for the love and I hope you keep enjoying!

--

And-And he tried to work on his project while his mind was still muddled. But he realized he was still focused on the child when he noticed his duck had wolf ears now.

“Fuck.” He put his head in his hands.

Why did he care? Why were they stuck in his head? He’s never cared about a sinner before! He even knew there were children sinners! But this one…this one was stuck in his head. And fuck! He cared…he cared if the kid was ok.

It was messing with his head! He’d asked them for their name, he comforted them, and he even gave them his place to stay even if it was temporary! He shouldn’t care, they’re just another sinner…

But that felt wrong to think. He cursed to himself as he paced in his workshop. It was another day, he had little sleep (which was normal but it felt distressing right now) and he couldn’t understand his own mind.

He took a deep breath, running his hands through his hair.

Fine, ok. He’ll just show himself! He’ll show himself what he’ll get if he shows the sinner kindness. Remind himself what sinners were all about. You give them an inch, they’ll take the mile.

So, he put his care forward and was ready to let it be shattered, just like every other time…

The child came to the kitchen to get food in the morning, frowning in confusion when they saw Lucifer in there, humming to himself as he was cooking.

“…Good morning.” They muttered.

He looked over, smiling at them. “Hey, I hope you like pancakes.”

They watched him carefully, shifting nervously. It was his home so of course he could come out. They just weren’t ready for this.

“I think so.” They nodded.

Lucifer noticed their ears pointing back as their tail wrapped close to them, and he frowned softly at their response.

“Well, come sit down they’re almost done.”

They hesitated for a moment before coming to sit in the chair at the dining table. Lucifer nodded before he went back to the food in front of him.

“Did you get some more sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Good, good.” He nodded as he put a pancake on top of a small stack, bringing it over to them. “I figured after last night you should get a good breakfast.”

“Thank you…” They tilted their head as they looked at the food as he went to grab his own food. “Do you need something?”

Lucifer frowned as he looked back at the sinner. “No?”

They simply watched him for a moment before humming and turning back to the food, picking up a fork. “Ok.”

…What? He watched the sinner confused. They were a bit of an odd one for sure.

“OK then.” He muttered before grabbing his plate and sitting at the table with them.

It was silent besides the scraping of forks and knives on plates. He was always terrible at small talk. He could put on a big show sure! But he wasn’t very good at simple socializing, especially after being a shut-in for the past few years. It didn’t really help the inability to small talk with that.

He looked around the kitchen, trying to think of anything to say. It was spotless in here other than the small mess he’d just made. Pausing, he thought of something to say.

“What have you been doing around here?” He asked.

They looked up, putting an arm over their mouth as they swallowed. So, they had pretty decent manners for a child.

“Cleaning.” They answered.

He waited for more but they just sat there, tail slowly swishing behind them.

“Wait, wait. You’ve only been cleaning since you’ve been here?”

They nodded snout scrunching up slightly. “The dust kept making me sneeze. And it needed to be cleaned.”

“So, you haven’t been…playing or reading? Anything like that?”

“…I’m not supposed to touch anything I don’t need to.” They shifted in their seat. “And I only need to when I clean.”

Damn it Lucifer.

He hung his head for a moment forming words before he looked up and put his hands on the table.

“You don’t have to clean. That’s not your job, this isn’t even your house.” He told them. “I appreciate it, but you don’t need to do that. Look, let’s change that rule. You can touch things when you want, you just can’t take it from the house. Ok?”

They sat there, taking it in before nodding. “Ok.”

“Great.” He took a breath. “You know, I say what have you been doing, I guess I don’t have much for you to do other than read. You can read right?” They nodded and he nodded as well. “While that’s good, it wouldn’t be fun all the time…hm…Alright. Finish your breakfast then I’m going to show you something.”

They continued eating with that and he watched them carefully. He should have been clearer about his rule, but he didn’t think they’d take it that way. Strange kid.

The pair of them finished their food and he put the plates in the sinks. He’ll…probably come back to clean them later. He led the child down the halls, their ears pointed back and their arms behind them as they followed behind him. With a grand bow, he opened the door to his workshop, grinning as the little one giggled.

“This is where I do my work.” He motioned for them to come in. “And…my more personal projects. But, the reason we’re here. You can take one duck from any pile, except that one.” He pointed to one closer to his desk. “Those ones are more dangerous.”

The child came in, their eyes lighting up at all the colorful little things. They came in such a variety. They’d never seen so many colors in one room either, especially such beautiful bright ones. Their ears perked up in delight as their tail started to wag. Going towards one of the safe piles, they went to touch but stopped, hesitating as they looked at him.

Lucifer, himself, wasn’t able to help the soft smile as he watched the wonder and joy in the child’s eyes. No one had been so excited to see his ducks in years. Charlie used to love them when she was younger, but she’d grown. Not as enthused. But the little one was enthralled by them all.

“You can look through them.” He encouraged.

“…they’re all yours?” They asked him.

“Yes, but like I said. You can choose one for yourself.”

They retracted their hand though. “I can’t take your things. That’s wrong.”

“What have you been doing around here?” He asked.

They looked up, putting an arm over their mouth as they swallowed. So, they had pretty decent manners for a child.

“Cleaning.” They answered.

He waited for more but they just sat there, tail slowly swishing behind them.

“Wait, wait. You’ve only been cleaning since you’ve been here?”

They nodded snout scrunching up slightly. “The dust kept making me sneeze. And it needed to be cleaned.”

“So, you haven’t been…playing or reading? Anything like that?”

“…I’m not supposed to touch anything I don’t need to.” They shifted in their seat. “And I only need to when I clean.”

Damn it Lucifer.

He hung his head for a moment forming words before he looked up and put his hands on the table.

“You don’t have to clean. That’s not your job, this isn’t even your house.” He told them. “I appreciate it, but you don’t need to do that. Look, let’s change that rule. You can touch things when you want, you just can’t take it from the house. Ok?”

They sat there, taking it in before nodding. “Ok.”

“Great.” He took a breath. “You know, I say what have you been doing, I guess I don’t have much for you to do other than read. You can read right?” They nodded and he nodded as well. “While that’s good, it wouldn’t be fun all the time…hm…Alright. Finish your breakfast then I’m going to show you something.”

They continued eating with that and he watched them carefully. He should have been clearer about his rule, but he didn’t think they’d take it that way. Strange kid.

The pair of them finished their food and he put the plates in the sinks. He’ll…probably come back to clean them later. He led the child down the halls, their ears pointed back and their arms behind them as they followed behind him. With a grand bow, he opened the door to his workshop, grinning as the little one giggled.

“This is where I do my work.” He motioned for them to come in. “And…my more personal projects. But, the reason we’re here. You can take one duck from any pile, except that one.” He pointed to one closer to his desk. “Those ones are more dangerous.”

The child came in, their eyes lighting up at all the colorful little things. They came in such a variety. They’d never seen so many colors in one room either, especially such beautiful bright ones. Their ears perked up in delight as their tail started to wag. Going towards one of the safe piles, they went to touch but stopped, hesitating as they looked at him.

Lucifer, himself, wasn’t able to help the soft smile as he watched the wonder and joy in the child’s eyes. No one had been so excited to see his ducks in years. Charlie used to love them when she was younger, but she’d grown. Not as enthused. But the little one was enthralled by them all.

“You can look through them.” He encouraged.

“…they’re all yours?” They asked him.

“Yes, but like I said. You can choose one for yourself.”

They retracted their hand though. “I can’t take your things. That’s wrong.

He laughed softly. “It’s not, I’m giving you one. You need something to play with. These are perfect.”

They looked at the pile, shifting slightly, clearly wanting to just go in. He couldn’t understand why they weren’t though.

“What do I give?” They asked, looking away from the temptation and back to him.

He frowned. “Nothing?”

“But you’re giving. I need to give back. That’s how it works.”

He still held his frown as he came over crouching in front of them. “No, this is a gift. You don’t give anything for a gift.”

“…Gift?”

He chuckled quietly thinking it a joke…but the child tilted their head in confusion. He stood in his crouched position for a moment before sitting cross-legged in front of them.

“Yeah, a gift. Things you get on birthdays and holidays. You know?” He waved his hand, but their ears went flat as they looked frustrated by their own confusion. “…Has no one ever given you a gift?”

“…no, I don’t think so.”

He let out a humorless laugh of disbelief. “Who was taking care of you before?”

That question got him closed out as they wrapped their tail close and clasped their hands together as they looked down. He sighed deeply as he tapped his hands against his legs.

Ok. Ok. A lot of things were starting to make sense.

“Ok, let me see your hand little one.” He held his hand out to them palm out.

They hesitated as they stared at his hand. Cautiously, they put their hand in his.

“Palm up.” He told them gently as he looked over to the pile of ducks, looking over it carefully.

They silently followed his instructions as he saw a cute little duck wearing a little fishing hat and holding a fishing hook (That actually reeled in! But that’s not what matters right now.). He took it into his free hand before he put the little duck in their hand. Carefully, he had them close their hand around it gently.

“This is yours. It’s a gift from me to you. A gift means you don’t give me anything. It’s yours to enjoy and do whatever you like with it. It’s yours.” He emphasized as he put one hand carefully on their shoulder.

His hand let go of theirs and their hand shook slightly.

“And, I want to gift you a few more, make up for all the gifts everyone should have been giving you.” He smiled gently. “But I want you to pick the ones you like instead. Sound good?”

“You promise?” They muttered instead.

“Promise what?” He asked.

“It’s mine?” They looked up at him with misty eyes.

He smiled sadly as he gently put a hand on their cheek. “I promise. I won’t let anyone take them away from you.”

They let out a quiet whimper and he sighed as he gently pulled them forward and into a hug. He gently pet the top of their head and instead of hugging him, they hugged their gift close.

“You’ll be alright now little one.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Taglist! (Comment or message me to be included) - @m-m-e-d-u-s-a - @legostars - @sarah-dreemurr-magne - @ringsofpersonti - @kisskisskys - @mysterypotatoink - @amberforest08 - @type-ink - @nagi3seastorm - @sunmizuiro - @lonelysimp18

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #child reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel

[jayssluttywife]

Academic Rivals: An Unlocked Drawer| p.sh rival!reader x rival!sunghoon

request>> its a bit long but tysm(!) to the anon who sent it, i was planning on smth for hoon but tysm for the idea<3

authors note>> ik i haven't posted in a while but somehow we gained another 100 followers overnight?! guys tysmmmm<3

minors do NOT read or interact (please)

"your grades have dropped drastically, I thought you were better than that", your teacher scolded. "I really want to help you so" you looked curious as your teacher stopped talking. "I got you a tutor, I think you know him". She walks toward the door revealing the presence of one and only,

Park Sunghoon.

He had a big smirk, entering the room and facing you. Your teacher thins her lips in a reassuring smile,"Ill leave you two to it then", she spoke, gathering her books and leaving before you could stop her. You look up at him, a pout of hatred and anger plastered on your face. You lightly roll your eyes as he bends to your height. Telling him your address with a quick 'dont be late', before turning on your heel to leave.

And thats how you got here now, bored and revising things that you never even knew existed. He stops talking, causing you to look up at him as if you knew he was going to say something off-topic. "Got any snacks?" he asks, smiling as you reluctantly stand up, letting out an annoyed sigh. You walk out of the room, unintentionally swaying your hips.

Sunghoon's gaze moves from your back to your ass. Your small shorts barely cover any of your flesh. He bites his lip, forcing his eyes away from the sight. You on the other hand are struggling to get the snacks for the top shelf (lmao) 'how did they even get there?' you think. You can't find anything decent to give him, so you make popcorn instead.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon looked around your room. It was filled with small pictures of yourself on beaches and small revision notes. His eyes were slowly drawn to small drawers, the middle draw with a black silk bow on the handle. It had a lock, but when he realised it was slightly opened, it made him more curious as to what was inside. Maybe it was some weird cringy 'dear diary' or childish photos.

In fact, it was the opposite. It was full of different sex toys, ones he never expected you would own, or even know of.

Instead of being disgusted, he bit his lip, never knowing that you were this filthy and dirty. He loved this, so many lewd thoughts ran through his mind. Imagining how you would twitch around the toy, letting out small moans and whines, oh he wanted you so bad.

He grabbed a small vibrator turning it on and seeing the small bud move made him smirk. There was also a small matching remote, a setting to speed and slow down the vibrations. He grabbed it and put it in his pocket, waiting for you to return.

You finally enter the room, your shirt exposing your waist as you were reaching for the top cupboard earlier. You place the popcorn in front of him and sit down. "There were no snacks so I had to make popcorn"

"Try it for me, please?" you watch as he takes one in his hand. His eyes never leave yours ashe puts the piece in his mouth. You gulp down the horniness building up in you, ignoring the wet patch forming between your legs. "Its alright" he answers, breaking your thoughts.

You turn back to your book but his deep voice stops you. "I think you forgot to lock something" he starts as your eyes connect to his, not understanding him. He pushes the chair back on its wheels, pulling the draw with him.

Your eyes widen as he reveals what you had thoughtg you locked before. You start to stutter an explanation but before you could protest, he pulls you towards him. "youre just as filthy as i thought you were" his breath blows on your face and he lets out a breathy laugh as you dont respond. "Couldve just asked me to fuck you" he taunts in your ear, his breath tickling down your neck.

"You want a cock don't you?" He mocks you, pouting as you slightly nod. "Get up for me then" you immediately get up like an eager puppy, ready to do anything for him. You watch as he pulls down his jeans, revealing his revealing his pink, leaking cock.

And look at you know, all on top of him and trembling as the small vibrator sped up again. "C'mon then, next question," he smiles as you still try your best to focus. You have sweat running down your neck, back, forehead, everywhere possible. "I-is is 52?"

He chuckles softly, "wrong baby" he coos. You start to sob again. "Sunghoon, t-too much!" he laughs as your body jolts to him adding the speed. "c'mon next one". This question was way more easier so you finally (estupido) got it right. "please let me cum sunghoon- please!" You can feel him thrusting up into you, it feels overwhelming but its just so good.

You can feel his dick hitting so high into those spongey spots no one has hit before. Even when you looked down, you could see the bulge in your belly which only made you moan more. "Hold it in a little longer baby" but you couldnt hear him anymore. Your eyes were at the back of your head at every thrust he did.

"Please sunghoon!" he sighs loudly, finally giving you a reassuring hum. As if you could hold it any longer, you feel your orgasm rain over you. Both yours and sunghoons liquid mix down your thighs.

♡

small aftercare~

Your in the bath with sunghoon bent over to your level and scrubbing your sore plush body. "Want to do this again?" your eyes grow bigger in plead but he just giggles lightly.

"Sure"

took me so long, i apologise

#enha x reader #enhypen #enhyphen hard thoughts #enhyphen x reader #enhypen smut #enhyphen sunghoon #sunghoon smut #sunghoon

[sameschmidtdiffname]

heyyyy can I pls req something where Mike tries to make it up to the reader after he says something wrong in their 1st fight as a couple? like “I don’t want to lose you” as an apology and they get back together or something along those lines? tysm I really enjoy ur work :))

But of course!!!

Wanting, Waiting

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: Overworked and underfed, you'll go to sleep once some decent work is complete. However, a late night turns into a day long fight.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no gender specific pronouns for Reader, pre-established relationship, argument, cursing, Reader and Mike both got some shit going on, hints of an eating disorder, overworking, hurt/comfort, crying, mentions of: suicide/death, depression, drugging, and kidnapping. Vulnerability is gross.

Notes: 'Slip' walked so this could run full speed into a brick wall. I feel as though I may have redeemed myself.

                     ▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

This page is mocking me.

The hour is late. I stopped checking the clock around 2:00 A.M., and there's a cup of cold coffee right next to me on this table, several rings on the inside from where the coffee had been left sitting far too long. It's cheap, the flavor sticking to my teeth in a way that settles my lips into a slight grimace as I try to convince my hand to move my pen across the just as cheap notebook paper that has been sitting in front of me since I came home.

Come on. It's words. What the fuck is hard about this?

'It's not hard if you can actually get your head out of your ass and do something,' I think to myself. Not helping.

I have an irritating collection of drafts. Oh yes, I can start them and I can certainly plan out the works before me. But actually writing is somehow impossible, and even though I can feel how thick the block is in my mind, preventing me from communicating my feelings properly, I just can't get break myself out of it.

Come on. Finish one draft. Then everything will click together for the rest.

For the past few weeks it's been just like this. Come home, sit down with projects, and try. But no matter what I do, I just can't focus. It's as though my head simply won't allow it. And this house, quite frankly, isn't helping. It's admittedly unsettling atmosphere, the loud noises born from nothing. It's as though I can feel the weight of the dead that used to sit at the same glass table as I watching me over my shoulder, pressing their non-existent weight against me, making my chest tight with pressure I cannot voice because that's not fair to the ones still here truly haunted by their presence. I'm just a guest who overextends their stay, quite frankly.

Just a page. Just write a page and you can get up for a moment. Ignore how loud the fridge is at something clunks inside of it.

A page. Get a page. Come on, you imbecile, how hard is a fucking pa-

"I thought we talked about this."

It's a testament to my mental state how high I manage to jump in my chair, my tired and over-caffinated heart set off to make me dizzy with over exertion from fear, turning to see who has come to voice their thoughts and damn us both with them.

"Mike," I sigh. I place a hand on my chest, rubbing slightly at the spot where I feel my heart pounding against my sore ribs. "Don't do that."

"Have you slept at all?" Mike asks disapprovingly. His arms are crossed against his chest, heavy bags under his eyes from another night of restless dreams. He can't sleep, I won't sleep. If he'd allow it, we could actually get shit done this time of day.

"A little," I lie. He's just worried. About everything. He always is, which at first was something I loved about him. And usually I still do. It's an admirable trait, to care about someone and love them so much it's only natural to fret over them, to check and make sure they're taken care of properly.

Except it makes me feel guilty.

"Oh yeah? What time?" He asks, narrowing his sleep swollen eyes at me.

Details. Fuck.

"Ah, uh- I don't know, I wasn't looking at the clock," I say sheepishly, trying to flash a disarming smile and make my own bags look like ones of bare minimum rest instead of self neglect. Mike's jaw tightens slightly.

"Oh?" He says in a dull voice that is not raised, yet managed to ring throughout the room nonetheless.

I hum affirmatively, pressing my lips together and fiddling with the cheap pen in my hands, glancing down at it in an attempt at trying not to give myself away.

"Yeah, I don't know. Just like, laid my head on the book and... y'know... drifted off for a couple hours," I try to say casually.

"Ah," he says as though that were enough, leaning now against the doorframe of the hallway, looking at the other wall as though the paint were interesting. "How long after I went to bed, do you think?"

Keep your breathing even. He can smell fear. "Like, a couple," I answer with a shrug.

"Or, like, not at all," he says, turning his head back to stare down at me with a glare.

"I slept," I insist.

"Bullshit. You give me unnecessary detail about your shits post mexican take-out, but you can't tell me what time you fell asleep?" He says accusingly.

"I was asleep! I'm sorry, do you want me to lie and give some time because you need it for some reason?" I ask evenly, shrugging as though to ask what he'd like me to say, blinking at him and adding a tired tinge of a croak to my voice to match his.

"I'm sorry?" He asks, eyes still in narrow slits yet somehow widening slightly, his leg uncrossing from over the other and planting firmly on the floor as he stands straight.

He's not that tall. Kinda short. But he looks much bigger when mad. Kinda like an iguana. I told him that one time and got bit. Jokingly, of course. It's not like he'd just reach over and sna- You know what? Irrelevant.

"I'm just saying," I say, starting to turn back to my notebook as though the conversation were finished.

"No-no, I'd like to hear that again," he says. I can hear his footsteps pad against the flat, tan carpet, my shoulders stiffening slightly as I train my decreasingly neutral eyes on the wrinkled, lined paper in front of me. "I liked the part where you made me sound like some insecure teenager for calling you out on your shit. Very original."

My lips press into a thin line, my grip on my pen tightening slightly.

"It's not that serious, Mikey-"

"Don't bullshit me, and don't use some cheap nickname as a cop out via sympathy," Mike snaps, standing now on the opposite side of the table, pressing his hands now against the glass surface that dirties so easily. Trust me, we've had to clean some prints off of it.

There's a line, and at some point I'm going to cross it. The problem is it's hidden under mental sand that makes me unclear of exactly where it is.

"Michael-"

"That's formal," he says, leaning forward on the table, his tone the same as an interrogating mother just waiting for the moment where no one will blame her for finally tearing you to shreds for what you've said to her outwardly innocent statements. A trap.

"I'm sorry, I thought you didn't like cheap nicknames?" I say, fighting the irritation in my voice, barely managing to remain even as I click my pen to begin writing.

"What's wrong with just Mike?" He asks. He reaches across the table, placing all five of his fingertips on my paper firmly and dragging it back across the table towards him, withholding it from me.

"Would you like me to use just Mike?" I ask.

"I'd like you to make eye contact while you lie through your fucken teeth," he says calmly, not moving as he continues to stare me down.

"Okay, Mike. And what exactly does my sleep schedule mean to you?" I ask slowly, trailing my eyes from his hand, slowly up his arm with pronounced veins and muscles, to the white cotton shirt that was two sizes too large and usually what he wore to sleep in, until I meet his dark and slightly hateful eyes.

"We had a conversation," he starts.

"A conversation," I repeat.

"About a month ago, do you remember?" He asks, cocking his head slightly in that way it does when we both know I'm not going to dare to answer with anything other than he wants.

"You ha-"

"I had a concern," he interrupts me, now looking down at the notebook and studying it as though it were a piece of fine art. "Which involved how absolutely awful your ability is to take care of yourself properly."

"Mike-"

"Shut. Up." Mike says with disturbing calmness. "I'm talking."

Fine.

"It's fucking rude."

Not saying it's not.

"Like your attitude when I try to just help you because clearly, you can't help yourself," he says, now slapping down the notebook to gesture at me as though it were obvious why he was concerned.

I could speak. I'd like to. And he gives me a long enough silence I could. But instead I decide I will simply give him the floor.

"No opinion on this?" He asks shortly.

"No," I say with a dismissive shrug. "You seem to have them for me."

Mike laughs at this statement, and if the sparkle in his eyes didn't seem to have the same dull shine as the glass table between us I'd feel a bit better about it. But I think there's a six foot hole in the backyard I just signed a lease on that makes his disturbingly convincing smile much more worrisome.

"You're funny," he says affectationately. "Get up."

"What?" I ask, blinking.

"Are you deaf now? Up," he says in irritation, beginning to cross back around the table. "This isn't a negotiation."

Before I can speak his hands dig in under my armpits, roughly pulling me to stand and bringing me close to his chest. I should have energy to fight back, I've only been sitting after all. But a physical confrontation would be too loud, first of all. Abby is asleep in her room, and I don't want to make a scene to wake the poor child. Number two, my bones are sore, my head is aching and I generally just do not feel well enough to protest. Physically.

"Put me down, you son of a bitch!"

Verbally, I'm fine.

"You're going to bed, that's final!"

"I have twelve drafts due that I have to get done or else this project-"

"You have four hours of sleep you can get before you have to take your candy ass to work in the fucken morning, or else I'm gonna beat it into you," he hisses directly in my ear, his breath cold and loud so close to me. Jesus, fuck. What did his parents feed him as a child? It shouldn't be this easy for him.

"Oh, I don't do what you want and now you threaten physical violence. Very mature," I mock, reaching out to grip the doorframe of Mike's bedroom, purely to piss him off.

"Save me the dramatics," he snaps in a whisper, wrapping one arm tighter around my waist and using the other to bat my hands away from the frame. I can tell he's genuinely trying not to hurt me, his grip on one wrist firm but careful.

"Just let me write one page," I try.

"That's what you said last night," he says, still trying to pull my hand away. My nails have dug into the frame, making it slightly harder. I can sense his irritation growing. "You got two hours of sleep."

"That's not going to kill me," I argue.

"You haven't slept for more than two hours in a week," he says.

One nail breaks against the frame, making me lose my grip and sending pain down my arm from the awkward angle at which the pressure had snapped it off. I wince slightly, which gives Mike slight pause as he checks my hand, but decides I'm alright before he begins dragging me towards the bed in earnest.

"Why is it so hard for you to just take care of yourself?" Mike asks in frustration.

"I take care of myself!" I say defensively. Mike drops me onto the bed, standing in front of me to prevent any new attempts at escape.

"No, you don't," he says, quiet but firm. "You sit and stare at your notebook and you don't do anything else if you can help it. You sleep for two hours, you go to work, you hardly eat, you don't have energy anymore." Mike's hands are planted firmly on his hips, his nostrils flailing as he tries to take collected, calm breaths. "I care about you. Why can't you?"

"Michael-"

"Stop!" Mike snaps, groaning and turning away from me with a sharp spin on his heel. He buries his hands in his hair in frustration, now pacing between the bed and the door, quietly shutting it so we can argue in peace.

"Why are you so upset?" I ask, genuinely confused.

"Because I don't want to see you live like this. I am concerned and every time I bring it up you dismiss me, you joke, you don't care and I hate that," Mike says, temporarily stopped in his tracks to point at me as he seethes. "I'm watching you waste away and you know what? I'm starting to think part of you likes it."

"Excuse me?" I say, astounded. I cross my arms in front of my chest, cocking my head at him in a way to say 'I dare you to repeat that.'

"You heard me," Mike says, taking a step towards me. "It's like you cannot for one iota of a second conceive of some world where taking care of yourself is a good use of your time. You work, and work until you've burned yourself out so horribly you rot in bed for a month. And unless you're staying here, I hear nothing from you. Not a call, not a fuck you or whatever. It's like you're punishing yourself."

"Now who's being dramatic?" I say.

"See? I can't even point this out without you getting defensive, which just shows you know you're in the wrong!" Mike turns away from me once more, resuming his path of restless walking.

"Why do you even care?" I ask genuinely. This makes him pause again, his glare once more returning to me as he mentally questions my intelligence.

"You know what, I don't know!" Mike snaps, his voice gaining volume. "You are insistent in this fucking- slow method suicide and I'm trying to help you, but you won't let me!"

"I never asked you to care," I scoff, rolling my eyes.

"I never asked to care!" Mike nearly shouts, leaning in close to my face and sneering at me.

This breaks the tension.

His face falls as soon as the words are out of his mouth, his eyes widening slightly like my own eyes. This comment shouldn't really sting. I shouldn't let it. But it does. And for a moment, I do. And he sees that clearly.

"... oh," I say softly, my arms relaxing and shoulders sagging ever so slightly as I drop his gaze, trying to shut off my emotions before they're obvious.

"I'm sorry," Mike says quickly, stumbling to his knees in front of me. "I didn't mean that-"

"It's fine," I say, trying to remain as blank as my pages on the kitchen table.

"I just said it to be hurtful," Mike says quickly, his hand reaching up to cup my face. I take it away, turning my head to the side slightly. There's a new chill in the air, one I can feel seizing my chest.

"You weren't," I say. "I'm going to sleep."

"Please, I don't want-"

"I'm going to sleep," I say forcefully, shoving him away and turning to begin undressing from my work clothes that I still wore. Mike is silent behind me, probably thinking, and I'm close to not being able to hold myself together anymore.

"Get out!" I snap, flinging my shirt at him in a rage and beginning to stand from the bed to chase him out. He doesn't need anymore prompt, quickly scurrying out from the room to wherever it is he'll sleep now. Probably on the couch even though there's another room down the hall. A self induced punishment. Knowing him he probably won't even allow himself a blanket or pillow, feeling the cold air fitting for his selfishness.

Good.

-

When I wake that morning, I can smell breakfast in the air. My stomach hurts from skipping meals, but I don't want to eat. First of all, I haven't worked for a meal. There's still plenty to be done with my drafts. And food is a good encouragement to keep working. Second, I didn't ask him to care. And he didn't ask for it either. There probably isn't enough for me, and if there is, he and Abby can debate between the two who will have it. I need to shower.

I take forever washing myself. If that's what you want to call it. It was moreso standing under hot water, letting it run cold until I couldn't stand it anymore and hoping my deodorant is able to do some heavy lifting today. I barely have enough time to get to work, passing silently by Mike and not turning when he calls my name, walking out the door as fast as I can without running.

He follows me outside, something shaking in a bag behind me. When I finally open my car door I'm forced to have my gaze in his direction, his body between the door frame and my car door, presenting me with a bag of lunch.

"Please eat," he begs, placing the bag in my lap unceremoniously and then quickly stepping away and shutting the door himself.

There's a small moment where he and I just share at each other through the glass, time slipping away without notice. He hasn't slept, he'll be late for work if he doesn't get dressed soon, and the bag on top of my thighs is warm. Fresh. A petty part of me wants to roll down my window and throw away the meal, back out of the drive way and let that fester in his mind out of hate. He thinks words can hurt? Actions are so much worse.

But there's something in his eyes. Defeated, resigned. Childlike is almost the word I could use. In front of my car is the 12 year old boy who tried to chase down his brother, the 18 year old who decided to sacrifice his life raising his little sister while saying goodbye to his parents, and the 27 year old man who's just trying to keep everything together.

I don't know what to say to this child. Or to the man.

So, with the turn of my key in the ignition, I don't.

-

It's late when I come home. When the manager had asked me to stay late I almost called Mike to break the silence and tell him this. But there was still a part of me that didn't care whether or not he knew. Really, I didn't have to return home tonight. I could go back to my apartment and just let him rot in bed the way he claims I do. How could he say such a thing, anyways? I rot in bed? What about the days I've walked into the house and he hasn't slept all week, where he's claiming he's trying to kick his medication and he'll get the hang of it soon. Where his sister is eating every meal almost burnt because he can't think straight enough to remember time. Where I've had to coax, beg, demand of him that he just takes a pill because he's laying on the side of the bed, small and curled in on himself, dead eyed and obviously tired but still not sleeping. One time I slipped it into his food. And I felt awful. Do not think for a moment I wanted to do that. There was a betrayel in his eyes when sleep began to overtake him. I hoped he wouldn't notice, but he must've. Some tell in the drugs effect that made him aware his rest was not voluntary. But I didn't care. I stroked his hair through the night, and I'll do it again. He could hate me however long he needed to, he just needed sleep first.

The irony still hasn't struck me when I walk through the door of his house, well past dinner, Abby in the bath. The door was left unlocked, which is unusual for this time of night. Mike jumps from the couch the minute I open the door, standing with his hands by his side anxiously pulling at the edge of his oversized sweater.

Everything's oversized with him. The thought occurs to me that his father was slightly bigger.

"Don't leave me," he says quietly, his voice small and pathetic like him. But I don't say that with hate.

"I just got home," I say. "Be a bit odd to leave again."

I try a smile, but it's artificial and we both know it's only for his comfort. It doesn't touch him, his eyes glassy and lips slightly parted the same way a child's is when they're trying to breathe as their sinuses spring to life in wake of forming tears.

"I didn't mean it," he says, still standing in the same place. If I was a better person I'd probably run to him. But I'm not.

If I were a better person, I'd say I believe him. But I don't. And suddenly my throat is swollen with hurt, my own bottom lip is sticking out and now we're both trying not to cry because this is so overly taxing. We're adults but emotions are hard. Vulnerability is hard. It is a damnation that we both detest, both avoid. In better states we would joke about this, would laugh and tease the other for not having the emotional capability to voice our thoughts. But we're not. So we don't. And now we're crying openly in the off-putting, attempted to look cozy living room that we can never fully relax in.

"I don't wanna lose you," he says between small hiccups, hands now balled into fists that he buries under opposite armpits, shifting his weight so that he doesn't look so small. His glances bounce between me and the hallway table, never fixing on either of us as he tries to state his mind like an adult. "I've barely had you."

In my heart there has been a constant ache, hurt flowing and pumping through my veins like the blood that ran cold last night at his hurtful words. His apologetic words make the ache somehow worse.

"I don't mean to be a burden to you," I say softly, feeling a small, stray tear break the fluid barrier of my waterline to race down my cheek, allowing a pathway to the fatter drops that threaten to quickly follow.

Mike's face shifts, stepping towards me and holding out his arms.

"No, never," he says just as soft, trying to comfort me. I freeze as he approaches, my body stiffening as I try to swallow the lump and convince myself that I can survive his touch. His touch that I normally crave the moment I'm around him, that I seek in the dark of night even when the bed is overheating, that I'd go insane without.

"I've never asked you to care," I say, voice breaking and tears rolling freely now.

"I know," he says into my neck, which is wetting as he shakes around me, his grasp firm and careless of whether or not it's too much.

"I don't mean to cause problems. I just...." I don't know what I mean, how I wish to finish the statement. If I was clever, I could. If I was clever, I wouldn't even be in this problem to begin with.

"I'm just scared," he chokes out, his breathing horrible as he struggles to keep his crying from being obvious. "You look sick all the time and I don't want that."

He's told me the story. His mother wasting away, thinning and slipping, starving and dying. How he'd returned home to a baby wailing in her crib as their mothers body lay in a pool of blood he never really got out of the carpet. He lied to me initially when I saw it the first time, said it was wine. It wasn't until we had a few glasses ourselves that his eyes glazed over and he told me. It was disturbing how neutral he kept himself to the subject. A habit he'd developed much too long ago to break.

"Mike-"

"I try, and I try and if something doesn't give soon I'm gonna fucking lose it," he sobs into my skin, arms tightening around me.

"If what doesn't give?" I ask softly, trying to pull him away to look into his eyes. But he doesn't budge, sobbing a little bit harder and gripping a little bit tighter. He doesn't respond, simply shaking as he breathes heavily against me through his mouth.

"Hey," I say softly, trying to wrap my arms around him, failing and giving up as I realize his grip is too tight. "I'm not going anywhere."

His mouth closes a little, quieting his breathing slightly as he sniffles.

"I'm an idiot, but I'm not suicidal," I say softly, trying again for a joke. He doesn't laugh, but he does pull away slightly to look at my face, lips swollen and quivering as he blinks at me.

"You scare me," he says quietly, not quite meeting my eyes. He's watching my lips, but I think that's because that's the closest he can get to making eye contact.

"I scare you?" I ask, furrowing my brows. I lick my dry, cracked lips for comfort. "Why?"

"Because I love you," he says shakily, sighing as though it were exhausting to admit while still holding that nervous flicker in his eyes. "Because when I think about not being with you the house seems colder. And I can't go back to hating this house."

I open my mouth to respond, but there's more.

"Because I love your stupid smile when you're excited, or how you do that cricket leg thing when you're falling asleep. Or how if you want my attention you'll bury your head in my chest and pretend you're doing it in your sleep even though I won't judge you for doing it while you're awake."

"I don't-"

"I love how defensive you get over things like that," he says, bringing one hand to cup my cheek, resting his thumb that smells like the creamy lavender handsoap next to the bathroom sink on my lips. "I love how you look waking up next to me, how you play with Abby. And for a really long time I didn't see myself ever having kids, but when I see you curling her hair at the kitchen table I think maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I just took up another job and saved money so that we could-"

"Mike-"

"Stop cutting me off," he says gently, his eyes finally meeting mine with just the smallest smile. "It's rude."

At that I do stop, my body finally relaxing into his grasp as I lean into him and his touch.

"I want things I haven't wanted since before Garret went missing," he says, stroking my lip. "And I want them with you."

Dinner was just as delicious as lunch, even if it was late. And the bed is soft like our voices as we make plans for years down the line. And after a week long break, the pages are finally filled once again.

Just like us.

                             ¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

Literally had a come to Jesus moment while writing this that not only do I fear being vulnerable irl, but in writing too. Nearly threw up while writing this. Book aable feet.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

               •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

#josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson #jhutch #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fnaf #mike schmidt smut #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson imagine #josh hutcherson smut #jhutch1992 #fnaf mike schmidt #fnaf mike #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader smut #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x y/n #fnaf fanfic #josh hutcherson fnaf #mike fnaf #fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf fanfiction #fnaf movie fanfic #michael schmidt #michael schmidt x reader #michael schmidt x you #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n

[dmitriene]

𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗦 𝗔𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗦𝗜𝗠𝗢𝗡 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗩𝗜𝗥𝗚𝗜𝗡 𝗚𝗙 𝗣𝗧 𝟮.

❝𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧❞ 𝘣𝘧 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺 𝘹 𝘨𝘧 𝘷𝘪𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 ❝𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗦❞ 𝘛𝘞: 𝘍𝘐𝘓𝘛𝘏𝘠 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘙𝘛, 𝘗𝘜𝘙𝘌 𝘍𝘓𝘜𝘍𝘍, 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞, 𝘚𝘔𝘜𝘛, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱, 𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮��, 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘷, 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘦, 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦

 ✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

days passed one after another, it seems simon was really scared after your last attempt at intimacy, it was even kind of comedic, a man who could break skulls and wash himself with the blood of his enemies was scared when his beloved girl got a small scratch on her lip while she was trying to blow him, wasn’t it charming?

it would have been so if he had not completely cut himself off from you, no, he did not stop touching you completely, on the contrary, he brought you to crushing pleasure with both his wide fingers and his deft tongue, looking into your tearful eyes through his light eyelashes, watching as your mouth opened slightly in the shape of the o, and your face was replaced by a new emotion each time, until you threw your head back, arching your spine with a quiet mewl, as soon as his tongue touched your pulsating bud, sucking it into his warm and wet mouth, full of saliva, as if he had been starving himself all day before touching you ‹𝟹

but that's not fair! you also wanted to do make him feel good, and even all sweet nothings in your blushing ears like — «your mere presence is enough to make me feel good, love» or — «the way your tender walls squeeze my fingers is already the fuckin' best thing i could have dreamed of» wasn't enough! you really want to learn, to do even better, but you know better than to argue with simon, and even your innocent teasing, such as licking his fingers, biting them, or biting his earlobe, making him growl and squeeze your waist until there are reddish marks on skin, none of this works, he knows how to hold back, and so he just ruffles your hair like an adorable pet, allowing you to continue, knowing that if he says no, it means no.

but it gets even worse when he says that he needs to go on a mission, yes, it is not as long as usual, but this does not change the fact that you will be left completely alone for a decent amount of time, and even none of his soft kisses and consolations do not cancel your disappointment, it’s not simon’s fault, of course not, and you never think so! you'll just be so bored and so lonely((

well, or you thought that you would, until you found yourself an innocent little hobby ‹𝟹 he will be away for so long, tired and miss you, so why not please him by sending him photos about how your day is going?

even if in the end, somehow magically, all your days consist of lying on your shared bed in a charming set of underwear with your cute fingers stuffed deep into your wet hole, chants of his name every now and then escape from your lips in the videos that you record for him almost daily, making him practically cum right in his pants, looking at the screen morning and night with wide pupils, grumbling and trying to tell you off with his promises that only push you to continue — «such a fucking tease you are, lovie, wait for me to come back and you won't be able to stand properly, gonna fuck you finally, what do you think, hm? dreaming, begging for it, aren't ya?»

and this promise alone is enough to send a shock of shivers down your spine, a quiet whine intuitively escapes from your throat when you look at this message and chew your lower lip, fidgeting with your teeth against it and typing the answer with almost trembling fingers, impatiently fidgeting on the sheets — «please, si, wouldn't want anything else, can't wait to you to get back home, feeling so empty already..»

every word pushes him into the abyss even more, he wanted to spend more time, he really did, but every vulgar message you send, a video with your precious naked areas of skin and how needy you act make him not care at all, he definitely will fulfill your every wish as soon as he returns home, anything for his sweet girl, just wait ‹𝟹

he returned home after about two weeks, about half a month at most, and he is finally in a familiar environment where he is immediately greeted by a light aroma of freshness and notes of your scent, but you are not on the sofa or in the kitchen, forcing him to habitually to worry, because even from the bathroom there is no sound — until he passes by your bedroom, catching the quiet purrs of his name from there, his hand shamelessly squeezes the door handle and opens it, revealing a charming scene in front of him.

your body arches against the sheets as you bury your face in the pillow, incoherently mewling his name like a prayer as your fingers move in and out of your wet, loose hole, you didn’t know that he would return today, and you missed him so much, you wanted to feel him so close that in the end you ended up in this position, your panties are somewhere on the edge of the bed, falling to the floor, there is nothing on your body except his t shirt, and your eyes become wet with tears of disappointment because your own fingers are not enough for you, when the sound of his voice makes you shudder sharply and squeeze around your digits — «what a beautiful scene, hm? are ya greeting me like this, darling?»

you whine something, looking at him over your shoulder through the damp veil and stupidly tilting your head like a lost kitten, whispering softly — «s-si? you're back?..» realization comes gradually, this is simon, you smell him and, albeit imprecisely, you see his figure in the doorway, so you move to remove your fingers from your pussy, wagging your hips and your ass that currently raised into the air when his commanding voice calls you, making you shudder and obediently freeze — «tsk, no.. no lovie, keep those fingers in and then i'm gonna replace them with mine»

your head moves on a subconscious level and you nod like a dummy, freezing in place even despite the slight numbness in your legs when he steps closer with measured and silent steps, crossing the path from the now closed door to the bed, allowing the mattress to sag under the weight of his knee as he settles down behind you, tracing your plush ass with his hand, pulling off his balaclava and throwing it away, a straight line of teeth clinging to the fabric of his gloves to expose his fingers and allow you to feel the warmth of his skin, as well as the beloved roughness of his fingertips.

— «waited for me so obediently, teasin' me, stuffing your poor cunt with your fingers while she begged for more, ye? don't worry, i'm here now» a rough, slightly hoarse voice teased, his eyes darkening even more with primal hunger as he watches your seductively arched body, wanting nothing more than to completely take possession of you, to take care of you.

simon settles on his knees behind you, his strong hands taking control as he guides your fingers deeper into your throbbing slick hole with one hand, pushing you over the edge, his touch intentional and guiding, allowing you to finally feel your stomach heat and twist with that lovely feeling.

his other hand quickly undoes the belt on his pants and his fly, casually and with a slap he pulls down the elastic of his boxers, freeing his swollen, throbbing cock which jumps forward, stands at attention and begs for release, pearls of precum slowly forming at the tip as he smears them along his impressive length.

soon his fingers smoothly take the place of yours, so much so that you don’t even notice when he thrusts into your wetness with decisive speed, plunging into your absolutely relaxed hole, he feels your walls squeezing his thick digits, and your moans of pleasure only increase his own arousal.

his free hand wraps around his aching shaft, stroking it firmly, causing milky drops of precum to gather at the tip even more actively, the pulsating sensation only intensifies, prompting him to seek release in the depths of your needy cunt, he just needs to play with you longer, make sure you are ready.

his breathing becomes heavier, his movements become more insistent, he can't help but imagine how he will stretch you, the thought makes his cock throb and ache with a raw, instinctive desire to finally feel you around him, making his thoughts melt and tongue take the leading position — «jus' a little bit, ffuuck, longer baby, gonna make you cum on those fingers your cunny loves so much»

his words alone are enough to make you squeeze him with a sucking tightness and tremble, simon's chuckle resounds in his chest and throughout the room when he sees your dumbfounded expression on your face, your moans of pleasure echo throughout the room after the long awaited orgasm, and he removes his fingers from your throbbing cunt, and the flow of your juices follows suit.

his teasing nature takes over as he runs his fingers over your sensitive bud, causing you to shiver, before, with deliberate slowness, he slides his swollen, sticky cock between the soft globes of your ass, the tip, bright red and slick with precum, pressing against yours puckered entrance, teasing and taunting, causing you babble confusedly — «pleaseplease, hhmnh, sisi, need you inside»

he savors this moment, taking his time to build anticipation, he unabashedly enjoys the power he holds over your trembling body, his own need barely contained as he holds both you and himself back, his senses on fire.

simon's actions are quick and decisive as he suddenly flips you onto your back and your body slides lower, positioning you perfectly for what's about to happen, giving him a view of your flushed face.

his deep, bottomless eyes meet your drunken expression as a small smirk appears on his lips, your legs spread wide, inviting him into your depths, and he obeys, feeling a rush of possessiveness, holding one of your legs under his knee, spreading it for his own review.

with deliberate slowness, he begins to slide his throbbing cock into your tight, virgin cunt, sharp new sensations overwhelm you, forcing you to close your eyes and instinctively hug his neck, seeking comfort and connection, hiding in his fragrant skin and calming down a little, especially thanks to the loosenes and the wetness of your pussy from early.

simon openly enjoys the tightness of your untouched walls, feeling pure pleasure as he finally slowly slides into you, taking his time, allowing you to adjust to his size, feeling every inch of your warmth gradually envelop his length, tight and pleasantly wet.

his cock continues its leisurely pace, plunging deeper into your depths, his every movement is calculated and controlled, therefore, having reached the deepest point of his penetration, he freezes, giving you the opportunity to adapt to the fullness and intensity of his presence between your walls.

his hand leaves your leg and slides to your face, gently touching your cheek, he nuzzles your cheek, his stubble brushing your skin, seeking connection beyond the physical, caring for your condition and purring huskily when you whine, fidgeting slightly — «i know, got you all dumb on my cock, but i need you to tell me if it's okay, love»

brown eyes search your face, looking for any signs of discomfort or pain, he wants to make sure that you are enjoying this experience as much as he does and that he is not pushing you beyond your limits, the heart in your chest swells and melts at his tenderness, so you struggle with the weight of your tongue in your mouth and whisper — «g-good si, feeling good, move, please move, mm» while his body is pressed against yours and his fingertips continue their gentle ministrations on your twitching bud, relaxing you.

simon registers your soothing words, knowing you're ready for him to continue, and when you recoil from his neck, letting your head fall onto the sheets, he takes the lead and his body instinctively begins to move inside yours.

your moans of pleasure slowly fill the air as you arch beneath him, the feeling of his teeth and lips on your neck adding to the intensity as he marks you with bites and kisses, leaving his imprint on your skin, slowly thrusting in and out of your tightness.

with a movement of his hand he moves it back under your knee, leaving your quivering bud, spreading your leg wider, giving him more access to your tight, drooling sex, his movements gradually becoming more purposeful, each thrust and rock of his hips calculated to please both of you, slapping gently with his skin against yours.

the thrusts become more intense, his muscular thighs slapping your ass with each more powerful movement, he lifts your leg even higher, giving him deeper access, causing you to squirm and claw at his arm in response to the sudden fullness, suddenly sighing and gasping, eyes rolling — «ah! mm! gonna — gonna cum like that, s-simon»

he hears you, but doesn't stop, his cock sliding deeper inside you, brushing against your cervix with every hard thrust, and the sensation alone sends waves of pure pleasure through your body, causing your mouth to open and close in silent ecstasy.

your eyes, slightly closed with desire, meet his dark gaze as he leans down to kiss your eyelids, gently touching your cheek with his lips, whispering words of encouragement, putting your pleasure above his own, saying through quiet growls — «good job, mgrh, go on, don't need to wait, yeah? cum f'me»

a couple more increasingly insistent thrusts become the final ones, bringing you to the edge as he continues to fuck you to orgasm, your inner walls clenching and sucking on his cock, feeling each vein and clamping around him in a wave of pleasure, soft mewls filling the room, echoing his satisfied grunts.

he kisses you passionately, his lips trailing down your face and neck, leaving marks and bites in their wake, the feeling of his teeth scraping against your shoulder only intensifies your pleasure, making you twitch and squirm across the sheets.

at the height of the moment he reaches his climax, his body tenses, muscles and abs flex and he releases his warm, pulsating cum deep into your slick pussy, his liquid warmth sending another shiver of pleasure coursing through your slightly exhausted body.

you cling to him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck, seeking comfort and closeness after the first thrilling experience, and it makes him chuckle softly as he nuzzles your warm cheek, stroking your leg — «that's it, did soo good, now it's time to rest, mm?» you respond with something incoherent, nodding, although in the end you only bump into his shoulder as your consciousness slowly falls into sleep, and the last thing you feel is a warm towel and gentle strokes on your skin as he wipes you down, stroking you tenderly on the head ‹𝟹

taglist: @roseglazedlens, @scar-crossedlvrs, @daydreamrot, @kennedyswhore-old dm me if you want to be tagged in my works or open my taglist

#.𐙚july's writings #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon riley fluff #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley comfort #simon riley comfort #simon ghost riley fluff #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #ghost x f!reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #ghost x female reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you

[tkaulitzlvr]

lots of tom angst🙏🙏

DID YOU MEAN IT? - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: you and tom are strictly friends with benefits. but when he says something that goes against that, you try to get to the bottom of it, changing whatever you both were forever.

content: smut & angst

a/n: thank you for requesting this i love love loveee reading and writing angst, i hope you enjoy!!

my hands rake down his back, the pain causing him to wince slightly, yet it only increases his stamina as he thrusts in and out of me at an even faster pace.

my mind is hazy, failing to focus on anything else besides the way his tip repeatedly hits my g-spot, reminding me that nobody else can make me feel the way he can, as much as my conscience tries to convince me otherwise. his hands hold my waist, kneading the flesh roughly, giving him a better hold of me, the way his thumbs dig into me definitely leaving marks. however the only thing on our minds is finding the release that we so desperately crave, our need to chase the familiar feeling only increasing with each strong thrust, his pelvis meeting mine with just as much desire as the first time this happened.

it always amazed me how we could act like this, so completely connected, both physically and mentally, only bothered about pleasing each other in this moment, nothing else mattering but caring for one another in the most intimate way possible. this was the only time we would feel this way, tom being inside me lit a fuse that could only be ignited when our bodies were against each other, emitting sounds from our mouths that nobody else would ever hear, secrets of our unknown intimacy kept in the most unholy way imaginable. but when i wasn’t inside his hotel room, allowing him to do whatever he wanted to me, we were nothing but mutual friends, only seeing each other when we had to, at events which we were forced to attend, everyone around us completely unaware of the screams that would escape my mouth time and time again from the smallest dose of the addiction that is his touch.

which is why, each time he bottoms out into me, fucking me as if we are blinded by love and not lust, my mouth hangs open, no sounds able to escape, lost in a blur of pleasure and desperation. but i knew that once this was over, i would come back into reality, leaving his hotel room just as fast as i had entered it, waiting for the next time i would crave his touch again or, in most cases, he would crave mine, and i would find myself back in the same position that i am in now.

and i didn’t mind it. what tom and i had was convenient for me - it gave me the short term pleasure i needed, without the heavy constraints of a relationship, something that i knew i wasn’t ready for. i had ruled out anything serious and, with the way that tom had insisted that we couldn’t catch feelings from the get-go, i was satisfied with the weekly hookups when tom was around. the freedom of being able to sleep with other people, another rule that we both had mutually agreed on, stopped me from getting attached, my mind and body on someone else’s before i could even think about missing him. how could i have caught feelings? tom was on tour for months, sleeping with any girl with a decent enough body that would fall at his feet, his fame and good looks meaning that in every country, no matter where, he would have no issue finding a girl willing to have sex and leave - so it wasn’t like he needed me as a long term fuck buddy, yet he still kept me around, and i liked it.

he was hitting all the right angles, my mouth no longer able to hold back the sounds as they pour from my lips, low whines sounding throughout the room above his almost inaudible grunts.

“fuck i’m close.” i manage to let out, clenching around him as he nods his head, never slowing down.

“i know…me too.” he mutters, resting his head in the crook of my neck and starting to plant soft and slow kisses there.

his dick starts to twitch, this being enough to trigger my release as i let out a loud moan, my eyes rolling to the back of my head with each movement.

“god…i love you.” tom lets out, his breathing uneven as he releases inside of me, riding out both our highs.

i freeze, my body unable to move as he is too lost in pleasure to even begin to think about what he had just said, let alone begin to study my reaction, yet it is the only thing on my mind. he had never uttered those three words to me, no circumstance ever needing him to, the fact that we were nothing but fuck buddies making the idea of confessing our love completely crazy, at least to me.

he collapses on top of me, catching his breath and slowly pulling out, rolling over and grabbing a cigarette from his bedside table, lighting it and bringing it to his pink lips. he is acting like nothing has happened, as if he hasn’t just confessed his love to me, absent mindedly smoking whilst my head is spinning, thinking of every possibility that could have caused him to even think about saying those words, knowing that he was the one to be so strict about catching feelings. i couldn’t think of a way to bring it up, the thought of the conversation completely terrifying me. hey tom, you kinda just confessed that you love me, and if you didn’t mean it we can just let it go and move on?

there was no way to address what he had said without creating unwanted tension, so i sat silently, staring at the wall, refusing to look at him and waiting for him to start a conversation. he leans over, putting his cig out before clearing his throat.

“hey, thanks for coming at such short notice by the way, sorry it was really random but i got back off tour earlier today and i just wanted to see you…kinda missed having you around.” he admits, turning to face me.

“you missed me?” i scoff, a sarcastic laugh escaping my mouth as i pull on my panties and bra, returning to my spot on one side of the double bed whilst he sits at the other.

“what, am i not allowed to miss you?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“i don’t know, it’s just kinda weird. we never really see each other unless you want to fuck.” i reply, sensing that the conversation is turning sour.

“that’s not true.” he begins, his voice raising as he quickly becomes defensive. “whenever i try talk to you, you tell me to cut the bullshit and get straight to the point if i want to fuck.”

“you never exactly say no though? name one time we’ve met up and it hasn’t lead to this.” i remark, gesturing to our situation, me in only my lingerie, and tom completely naked, only the messed up white sheets covering his lower half, his upper completely on show, his dreads tied up in their usual ponytail.

“i don’t have much choice do i? all i am is a quick fuck to you, aren’t i?” he questions, hurt evident on his face.

“is that not what this whole thing is? or am i just making up the entire conversation where you made sure that we were nothing but a quick fuck to eachother? you made it crystal fucking clear that we couldn’t catch feelings tom, i don’t understand where this is all coming from.” i fire back, not understanding this entire conversation and where it is headed.

“that was months ago. was it not?” he starts. “i think you and i both know that if i was just after a quick fuck, i could get it pretty fucking easily.”

a heavy silence lies in the air, only thickening as i stay quiet, trying to find the right words to say, not looking to worsen things, though he is clearly asking for an argument.

“did you mean it?” i ask, finally meeting his eyes for the first time.

“mean what?”

“i heard what you said before tom. i don’t know if you expected me to ignore it or forget about it but that’s not gonna fucking happen. so did you mean it?” i repeat, becoming tired of the way he says so much, yet he reveals basically nothing.

“i don’t know.” he says simply, breaking our eye contact and looking straight downwards into his lap.

“the fuck do you mean you don’t know? you had the balls to say it in the first place and now you’re saying you’re not sure? it takes a lot of nerve to confess that you love me, can you stop playing it off and just answer me?” i shout.

“i don’t know, okay? what, you want me to lie to you? it just slipped out, i didn’t-”

“what now you never even meant to say it in the first place? you expect me to just stand here and wait until you know, so you can fuck with my head some more? you’re unbelievable tom.” i scoff, picking up my clothes and hurriedly putting them on, walking out onto the balcony and resting my arms on the ledge, tom’s rushed footsteps quickly coming towards me as he stops, standing beside me.

“you and i both know it’s not like that.”

“do i? it looks like i really don’t fucking know a lot! you’re really messing with my mind right now tom, you tell me pretty sternly that i cant catch feelings and now you’re stood in front of me telling me that you don’t know if you love me or not? after months of us having quick sex whenever it’s convenient for us.”

he pauses, opening his mouth to speak, yet no sounds comes out.

“jesus christ do you really think it’s just sex?” he finally asks.

“i don’t know what to think anymore! seems like everything i thought i knew turns out to be a huge fucking lie.” i remark, failing to see how we are getting anywhere as i am only left even more confused than i was.

“if it was just sex, why would i have kept you around for this long? i could’ve gotten ‘just sex’ from anyone. i’ve tried to get you to see that, but you shut me out! you back out and take it as me wanting a fuck, when i just want to spend time with you.” he responds, clearly becoming more and more agitated.

“god do you even hear yourself right now? you talk about me like i’m some possession, that i should be grateful you’ve ‘kept me’ for this long! well, i’m not tom. i’m pissed, and i’m fucking allowed to be. don’t act shocked when i take you making conversation for wanting to hook up, that’s what it was always meant to be. i’m not gonna sit here and wait for you to decide how you feel. i just- i cant. sorry if that’s not the answer that you wanted to hear, but i just can’t.” i say, losing my patience faster and faster by the second, the more shitty excuses he attempts to make only leave me more agitated.

“i get it, but you’re asking me to make my mind up right now. that’s a crazy ask, you know?” he asks, his voice now a little calmer than it was before.

“then why did you say it in the first place, hm? don’t get pissed off at me for wanting an answer as if the words didn’t come out of your mouth.” i shoot back, his selfishness coming through more than anything else.

“i’m not trying to make this any harder on you, but this shit isn’t easy on me either!” he replies, leaning his head backwards and letting out a shaky sigh.

“easy on you? jesus christ how the fuck do you find a way to make this about you? you know what, maybe we should just call this whole thing off, it’s clearly turned into something that it’s not, that it just can’t be. it’s better for both of us.” i finally say, turning back into the hotel room, leaving tom alone on the balcony as i hurriedly grab my things.

“stop! fuck- just wait a second.” tom panics, rushing back inside and attempting to grab my wrist, looking into my eyes.

i study his features for a second. his eyes, soft, yet way deeper than the intense outburst of emotion that he let show, stare pleadingly into mine. i notice the glassy tint that settles over the hazel, this side of him both enticing and scaring me. his skin, smooth and inviting, something that i have only seen in moments of intimacy when it is pressed against mine, something that i have never had the chance to properly gaze at until now, lets a single tear drop onto it, tinting it’s glow with a small giveaway of his agony. his lips, warm and inviting, a part of him that i have gotten to know so well, unable to count the amount of times they have been pressed against mine in moments of reciprocated lust, are parted slightly, letting heavy breaths escape them, longing to spew out his feelings, yet they hold back.

i take a final look, knowing that it is the last time i will see these features up close.

“it’s over. bye tom.”

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

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[bloompompom]

Playthings

One Shot

Pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader

Summary: okay, maybe you could admit you were a little sexually frustrated after a long semester, but it wasn’t your fault that you accidentally walked into the wrong room. and you’d only take some of the blame after you shamelessly came crawling back for more.

Word Count: ~6.8k

Content: explicit sexual content, explicit language, caught masturbating, casual sex, rough sex, dirty talk, porn watching, face fucking, some degradation and objectification, praise kink, quiet sex, panties as a gag, mentions of spit

all that to say, reader discretion advised. this is just a porno. if you were looking for plot, we don’t know her here

It started out normal, just like you had anticipated. Why wouldn’t it be normal? After all, it was just a regular, old Tuesday afternoon. The only thing that made it any more remarkable was that you didn’t have class today. Your professor was gracious enough—in her words, not yours—to cancel today’s session.

Her email included a not-so-gentle reminder, in bold lettering, that your presentations were due on Thursday. She hoped you’d all be smart enough to use this ‘found time’ to make any last-minute adjustments.

You would have much preferred to be dumb, at least by her standards, and squeeze in a nap, just like the rest of your classmates. But, no. You had to use this time to scramble to the finish line because just maybe you thought you had another week before it was due.

You weren’t entirely at fault, though. You were absolutely swamped with school with the end of the semester drawing near. It wasn’t just you, either. The other members of your group—four of you in total—were scraping the bottom of their reserves to try and finish this presentation. You all had other classes that called for more of your limited time and energy—you know, ones that actually pertained to your majors, none of which had anything to do with literature.

Who would have guessed that an introduction—extra emphasis on that word—to fiction class could be so much work? So much for your supposedly guaranteed easy A. It was a general elective, damn it! It served no other purpose than to tick that little box next to your degree requirement. Yes, I have three literature credits, and I read the books to prove it.

Well, half-read. Skimming, to put it nicely. Sorry, Wuthering Heights, for the bastardized synopsis that you were about to present.

All of which was to say, that was how you found yourself here, huddled together on this Tuesday afternoon, noses buried deep into your respective laptops, as you tried to put together a halfway decent presentation.

It was a warm day. You could tell even from inside. It was the kind of day where the sun clung to your body like a sheet, begging you to stay just a little longer to enjoy the afterglow. You wanted to listen, but you were forced to take turns lounging in front of the fan, stuttering as it only pretended to cool the room.

Your patience grew thinner by the minute, with every cramp and crack of your fingers and bead of sweat that threatened to drip down your back.

This semester, though almost over, was starting to feel like one of those classic scenes you’d find in horror movies. You know the scene: when the protagonist gets trapped in a closet-sized room that slowly fills with water. It was sort of like that, in which this dumb literature class had you gasping for your final breaths of air. And to top it all off, you had another group book report due. How old were you again?

“Sasha!”

You heard Jean hiss just across from you, interrupting the furious sound of clicking keyboards. You turned to look at him, past the coffee table that was decorated with empty energy drink cans and loose chips.

Sasha poked her head up from her laptop, looking innocent as Jean continued, “All your slides say, ‘Weathering Heights.’ Did you even read the book?”

“No, I didn’t! You know that!” she defended, sounding only slightly panicked.

You could see her edits as she made them, your eyes following across the screen. She corrected her slides to ‘Wuthered Heights,’ and you swore you could see the steam pouring from Jean’s ears. The only thing Sasha knew about any of your assigned readings was what she could find on Wikipedia—maybe less than that.

To your other side, Armin let out a lengthy sigh. “Let’s leave the editing to those that read the book. Okay, Sasha?” She looked defeated, even when he kept his voice soft, so he chipped in again. “Maybe you can… get us more snacks?”

That seemed to cheer her up enough. She offered him a salute and an, “On it, boss,” as she skittered off to the kitchen.

You had been sitting on the floor, criss-cross applesauce, for the last two hours, and your legs were starting to feel every minute of it. You extended them, one at a time, and listened to the embarrassingly-loud pop of your knees.

On that note, you planted your palms into the rug, pushing yourself to your feet as you asked Armin where to find the bathroom. He pointed you in the right direction, just down the hallway. With each step, you felt the stretch of your legs, and from behind, you heard Jean yelling again.

“You’re seriously ordering pizza?”

Even though you had only met them this semester, it was easy to guess he was scolding Sasha again. It was nothing more than happenstance that you sat next to them that day, the trio that seemed to know each other outside of class. When you were instructed to find groups of four, you were roped in with them in the chaos that was partnering up, always comparable to flocking birds.

You did well enough on that assignment, even with Sasha barely skating by, so you figured you might as well work on the next project together. They were the sort of people you could laugh—loud and hard—with, which probably explained why you were fussing over this presentation now, less than forty-eight hours before its due date.

First door on your right. That’s what Armin said, right?

No, that wasn’t what he said, actually. And you learned your mistake the hard way, too, immediately after opening the door.

Context clues alone, it was easy to guess that you didn’t walk into the bathroom. Of course, you didn’t walk into the bathroom. That would have been too easy, wouldn’t it? No, you walked into Armin’s roommate's room. You didn’t even know he had a roommate, let alone one you could walk in on, phone in one hand, his thing in the other. It didn't feel right to say it if you weren't supposed to see it.

“Oh my God, I’m—” You were so flustered you didn’t even utter the word ‘sorry’ before slamming the door shut again, which was probably for the best.

Your heart was pounding—you felt it echoing hard in your throat—when you looked just across the hall. The door was open and, lo and behold, it was the bathroom.Empty and dark.

You hid inside it, your back pressed against the door. You were mortified—hot with it, too. The apartment was already balmy with sticky spring air, leaving you flushed in all the wrong places as you debated running from the apartment, never to return.

You still had to pee, so you did that, spinning through every emotion all the while—like one of those ridiculously-large gameshow wheels you had to spin with both hands. Tick, tick, tick… tick. Suddenly, you were berating yourself. First door on the left. You’re such an idiot! Spin again. Tick, tick, tick… tick. The wheel stopped, and you shifted the blame. Shouldn’t he have known Armin had company over?

You stayed put on the toilet like there weren’t people waiting on you back in the living room. You were still thinking about him. That guy across the hall. What else were you supposed to think about? It wasn’t like you could go back out there as if it were still some regular, old Tuesday.

For obvious reasons, you didn’t see much of him. The image in your head was more like a photograph captured by a shaky hand. He was a blur of brown hair. White on top, black bottoms, cut in half by a tanned midsection that you only caught a glimpse of—right before he grabbed his blanket and you retreated to the bathroom.

If you thought hard enough—and embarrassingly, you did—you could see it again. See him again, with his hand wrapped around himself.

It was so wrong to think of him, a stranger, like that. There was a burning pit in your stomach when you thought of the indecency of it, fantasizing about someone in their most vulnerable state, without their permission.

You couldn’t help it, though. Just like how you couldn’t help the way your thighs clenched together the longer you thought about it.

The image you created in your mind was much lewder than what you had actually witnessed. While you couldn’t even pick his face out of a line-up, you still imagined his lips, how he’d bite into them as he pumped his cock through his climax. Toned legs, revealed by his pants that he had only tugged to his knees because, in the heat of it, he couldn’t be bothered to take them off fully.

You wiped again because you were getting shamefully wetter with every passing second. Then, for some insane reason, you felt the urge to apologize to him. Surely, that was the only solution to make this less awkward; you had yourself fully convinced of it for a split second.

You still didn’t know what came over you, but you pocketed your underwear before pulling your shorts back up. They almost didn’t fit, what with how small your shorts were, but you made it work.

You washed your hands, thinking that, admittedly, this wasn’t one of your brightest ideas. Your cotton shorts would unavoidably slip to the side if you were to return to your spot on the rug. But if this went the way you were hoping it would, you wanted to be thoughtful enough to grant easy access.

Then, if he needed a helping hand—pun intended—you would slip him your underwear, as if that were any less shameless than saying the words, ‘I would like you to fuck me now. If you’re interested, of course.’

It was in that same split second that you knocked on the door. The one just across the hall. The first door on the right. His door.

You wouldn’t call yourself naive, even in the slightest. You knew that by knocking on his door, you were risking the chance of something happening. What exactly, you weren’t sure, but you didn’t just have your panties shoved into your pocket for no good reason.

Your confidence started to wane, and it was quickly replaced by a sinking feeling. The timing was rather unfortunate, wasn’t it? It was as if the sound of your knuckles against the wood dragged you back to reality.

The door opened before you could even think of something to say. You should have had it planned out more, considering you spent the last five minutes contemplating your existence on the toilet. You were immediately consumed with how weird this was—how weird you had made it, just by showing your face again.

You found him a bit dazzling, looking up at him gave you the same feeling as when you stared into a bright light for too long. You blinked just the same, too, as if he had you seeing stars. Or you were going to pass out from humiliation.

It wasn’t like you were meeting under normal circumstances. You didn’t casually run into him at a bar, though you would have much preferred spilling your drink on him to whatever this was. You were only reminded of what happened when you noted that his cheeks were still stained pink. Whether it was from embarrassment or something else—like the telling blush of arousal—you weren’t sure.

All the same, he reduced you to nothing more than a moony teenage girl. You were fixed on his eyes. Green, but you were unable to distinguish the shade because you were lost in him again—the version of him you created in your head. You wanted to see if that version truly existed; how he’d look when he came from your touch instead of his own.

Your voice was mangled and lost in your throat. Like an opossum, it was just as if you had summoned him only to play dead at his feet. You tried not to crumble—swallowing your saliva that ran thick—even when he stuck his head out into the hallway, looking around as if he were on an episode of Punk’d.

He asked, “Is this some kind of joke?” to no one in particular, but he spoke like he really wanted to ask, ‘Where the fuck did this chick come from?’

“No, no!” you tried to assure him with the frantic wave of your hands. The flightiness in your voice only made you more nervous because now he knew you were nervous. You found just enough sense to introduce yourself, slowing your voice as you explained, “I’m working on a project with Armin.”

You could see it in his eyes, the fleeting second that it clicked for him. It didn’t last long, though. His brows were quick to furrow again because that still didn’t explain why you were here. Why you had just walked in on him—

“Can I come in?” you asked. You were looking for any sliver of reassurance in his answer. Something to help you decide whether or not you were going to hand him your panties.

This all sounded so absurd, didn’t it? Like something out of a bad porno—probably no different than the one you caught him watching.

He didn’t look sold on the idea, still eyeing you like this was all part of an elaborate prank. Even so, you could tell that, at the very least, his curiosity was piqued. He eventually stepped aside, holding the door open for you, like he had no other choice but to entertain the idea.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” you said as you made your way inside. You heard him close the door behind you, and you tried not to infer any meaning from it. He walked past you, placing himself between you and the bed. “For earlier.”

“Okay.”

There was a prickle of awkwardness. You felt yourself shrinking when you muttered, “And for this, I guess.”

You couldn’t read his expression. It was like he wanted you to get out but also… not? He looked at you the way one would look at an abstract painting. Like he was trying to get you, as if you were open to his interpretation.

Then again, you did just show up at his door, practically begging for more after stealing only a glimpse at his cock. He probably found you desperate and, right now, you weren’t above admitting that you were.

He looked at you like he was still trying to figure you out, as if it were possible from just a single look. His eyes didn’t carry the same boredom they did when he first opened the door, and the pink sheen on his cheeks had disappeared, too, telling you embarrassment must have been its cause.

He surely didn’t look embarrassed anymore. He sat on the corner of his bed, one leg bent at the knee and resting beside him, and the other hanging off the side. It was like you were sharpening the image you had in your head the longer you looked at him. You could see now that he was dressed in a white tee—covering his midsection this time—and a pair of black basketball shorts. His brunette hair was messily tied back in a way that had you wondering if it was ever neat to begin with.

Something about the sight didn’t sit right with you, even if all the parts you wanted to see were covered and forbidden. It was the sort of look that was too intimate to be shared between strangers, and more like something that had to wait for a second date, at least.

But you weren’t sure why you were thinking like that in the first place.

Much to your dismay, you were still fidgeting. It made you sound even more squirrely as you said, “That’s it, I guess.”

You didn’t need to say it. You could have just excused yourself after your flimsy apology. But you were still interested—and only because you knew he was still interested. It was apparent to you because, from this angle, you could see he was still hard. There was no way he was wearing any boxers.

And just as poorly as he tried to hide it, you failed to hide the way you let your eyes linger there. It was hard—no pun intended this time—not to. There was a lot going through your head, but the most blaring sign, flashing in big lights, told you this was about to become the best mistake you had ever made.

It was only confirmed when he said, “I don’t know if you are.”

“Huh?”

“You don’t look very sorry to me.” His eyes, now darkened, looked you up and down, only once, like he was sizing you up. “How about you come here and show me just how sorry you really are.”

There was a newfound gravel to his voice. You could feel it in your chest, thumping just around your racing heart. It lured you to him.

He talked like he knew how to fuck, and you really, really needed a good fuck—as if it could unburden you from a semester’s worth of stress. Where else were you going to find such a sinfully hot guy, hard and already riled up, like he was put here just to (fingers crossed) fuck you senselessly into his mattress.

You thought of the underwear that was still in your pocket. Before you could decide what to do with it, he beat you to it, like he knew it was there all along. He gave you a smile, one that said he had only let you think you were in control.

'How silly of you,' was what it sounded like when he said, “That’s what I thought.”

He balled the dainty fabric in his hand before tossing it aside. He seemed much more interested in you—taking you by the hips and pulling you onto his lap. He was strong. You could tell just by the way he held onto you, like he could bend and break you if he pleased.

The strength in his hands alone was enough for you to brush off the cockiness in his voice. But even more, you felt how badly he wanted this—perhaps even more than you did—in his touch, like fire underneath his fingertips. Not that it surprised you, of course. He was the one fisting his cock not even ten minutes ago.

But now, it was like you had dropped straight from heaven and right into his lap, quite literally. And as you lowered yourself onto him, the heat between your legs pressed up against his cock, you caught the beautiful groan he let slip.

You ground against him helplessly, letting yourself feel every inch of him through his shorts. His hands, resting on the tops of your thighs, dug into the plush of them as he dragged you over him. It was enough to pull a whine from you—even louder once he placed a hand on your back, flattening against it to pull you into him. You collided, his mouth on your neck. He made quick work of the delicate skin like he knew exactly where you liked to be kissed and where he should bite.

He didn’t shush you, but it lurked in your mind that his friends were just on the other side of his bedroom wall. But he didn’t seem to care, even with all your whimpers as he continued kissing your neck. He stayed there for a long time before ever kissing your mouth. Not that you could complain. You were lost in the delirious feeling of his lips, hot and wet, trailing down the side of your throat, dipping down to the spot near your collarbone that had you squirming already.

You wanted your shorts off, but you knew it would be difficult from this position. He knew it, too, which was why he told you, “Stand up,” between his nibbles at your ear lobe.

You did as you were told and stood just between his legs. His hands smoothed over your hips, taking your shirt along with him. He was at eye level with your bare stomach, leaving kisses there. One at a time, he replaced his hands with yours, having you hold your shirt up for him. You watched as he slowly inched off your shorts, kissing everywhere—your stomach, your hip bones, your thighs—but the place you needed him most. When you felt your shorts at your ankles, he pulled you right back onto his lap, like he thought you belonged there.

The only thing separating you was his thin basketball shorts. You wanted to undress him next, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry, with his fingertips tickling up your thighs. He only stopped to slip a teasing finger along the crease. You giggled at it, and it was the first time he heard your laugh. The sound was swallowed up by him, the unexpected plush of his lips now on yours. You liked them better here—on your mouth.

He kissed with just as much passion as you imagined, with his hand—the one that wasn’t tickling between your legs—cupping your jaw. He held you close, his tongue brushing past your lips to meet yours. You were really lost in him now, your hips aimlessly searching for his fingers—for anything.

You separated an inch, just for him to whisper to you, “I want you to get yourself off on my fingers first.” He tilted his chin down with unspoken gentleness. In the same cadence one would use to ask for permission, he asked, “Can you do that for me?”

He waited for you to nod, looking more like a bobblehead because if he didn’t touch you soon you might die. He rubbed your clit with languid circles, watching how you twitched when he grazed over a certain spot. When he quickened his touch, you collapsed your weight into his chest. It left you in the prime position to bite down on his shoulder, just to stifle your moans, as he dipped a finger inside you.

Already, there was a bubble, as hot as an iron, brewing low in your stomach. You rolled your hips in rhythm with the pumping of his fingers—now a second one inside you—with the heel of his palm adding pressure perfectly against your clit.

You tossed your head back when you came, another cry escaping past your lips. It was loud enough that he finally reacted to it, silencing it only by shoving something soft into your mouth. When you opened your eyes again, you recognized the black fabric of your underwear.

You were still riding out your orgasm—drool soaking through your panties—or else you would have taken them from your mouth. Instead, you kept your hands occupied by digging the blunt of your nails into his arms, looking for any sense of stability before you went limp in his arms.

“You gotta be quieter than that if you want to come again,” he told you. You only acknowledged it with another needy whimper.

He held you upright in his lap before laying you on the mattress beside him, like you were nothing more than a plaything. But you were fine with that. You wanted to be his plaything, just for now.

You went to take the underwear from your mouth, but he stopped you just before with his hand around your wrist.

“Promise you’ll be quiet for me?” he asked, his voice dulcet. You nodded, again like a bobblehead, and he took the panties from your mouth. He let his thumb caress over your cheek as he said, “Good.”

He tugged his shirt over his head. You ogled at what you could before he crawled over you, placing a hand on either side of your head to hold himself up.

His eyes were heavy-lidded with desire, following yours as you trailed your hand down the length of his body. You let them dawdle over his toned stomach before palming over his cock, which you hoped to see again very soon. You felt him twitch from just your hand alone, and it had you wondering how sensitive he’d be to your tongue.

When your fingers met the waistband of his shorts, you began shimming lower so you could take him into your mouth. He stopped you just short of freeing his length. You looked up at him, big-eyed and curiously, because what guy could possibly turn down a blow job?

He was back on his feet, towering over you as he stood at the side of the bed. He was quick to find his phone, and when he unlocked it, you heard the muffled sounds of whatever porn he had been watching.

You propped yourself onto your elbows to see whatever it was he wanted to show you. He took your interest as an okay to show you the screen. On it was a woman, stretched on her back, with her head dangling from the bed. There was a man fucking her throat, garbling her wanton moans as he fingered her.

“I want you to do it for me just like this,” he told you before throwing his phone aside. It was useless to him now; he had the real thing. His hands found you again, the warmth of your stomach. His fingers slipped higher underneath your shirt. “Think you can handle that?”

You were beyond turned on by the thought of him stroking himself to this video earlier. Now, here you were—once again, straight out of heaven—like you were made just to fulfill his fantasies. But, God, the thought of him ruining you had you aching.

You answered him by stripping from your shirt. Your bra next, undoing its clasp and tossing it aside, all in one swift motion. You would gift him with the lovely sight—your body in its entirety—as you sucked him off.

But before that, he wanted you. Just a little taste.

He leaned over you, kissing between your breasts and everywhere else that he could. You felt the heat of his breath on your nipple, just before he took it into his mouth. His tongue was hot as he flicked at it, sucking until he had your back arching, with mewls spilling from your lips.

He kept you there, only for a moment, and only long enough that he could leave his mark on you. When he was finally satisfied with the number of love bites he had decorated you with, he rolled you around until you mimicked the woman in the video, your mouth gaping for him and everything. You even lolled your tongue out, eager to please a man you had just met—more importantly, a man that just made you come and planned to do so again very soon.

One of his hands was at your face, his fingers gently caressing the soft skin beneath your chin. He ran his thumb over your tongue, letting you give it a coquettish lick. He used his other hand to yank down his shorts, all the way off this time.

You were right when you guessed he wasn't wearing boxers. His cock sprung out, nearly slapping his abdomen, before he took it in his hands. He pumped himself twice, and when he lined himself up with your mouth, you wondered if it was the angle or if you were truly going to struggle to take him fully.

He ran the tip over your lips. You wetted them for him, making it easy for him to slip into your mouth. He groaned at the feeling—even sharper when you hollowed your cheeks around him, and that was only the head. He was just as sensitive as you had hoped.

You could feel his restraint when he pushed deeper into your throat, like he was painfully aware of the fact that you were completely at his mercy. You encouraged him, offering a few moans with every thrust. He used the first few as a test, like he wanted to make sure you could really take it, then he pulled out of your mouth with a conspicuous popping sound. There was even a cliche string of saliva connecting the two of you.

“Fuck—that’s so hot,” he muttered, his voice so raspy that it was almost missing. It was the first break in his composure, along with the shudder he let rip through his body.

You met his eyes again, staring up at him as you patiently wait for him to give you more. He rewarded your obediency by ramming his cock back into your mouth, gaining speed with every rock of his hips. It only took a couple more before you felt him at the back of your throat.

“I knew you could—ah—do it for me, pretty girl.” His voice was encouraging, like you could hear the swell of his heart. It was sweeter than any sonnet, having you melt even as he fucked your face until you felt tears pool at the corners of your eyes.

It was clear he was loving it, with how his hands went heavy as he slid them down your stomach. How his abs went tight every time you gagged on his cock. Even from upside down, with loose hairs casting over his lidded eyes, you still found him beautiful.

What a strange thing to say, considering he continued to brutalize your swollen mouth. All the same, he had you rubbing your legs together as if you were in heat, but it only left your thighs sticky with your slick.

He leaned over you, helping you out by reaching between your legs in search of your clit again. You heard him curse again, just under his breath. Whether it was from your cries—suffocated by his cock—or just how wet you were for him, you weren’t sure. The only thing you knew was that if he kept this up, you were bound to come undone again any second.

He must have felt it, too, because all at once, he pulled out from your mouth. It left you coughing like you suddenly remembered how to breathe again. Still, you mourned the loss of his fingers.

He caught the pout on your lips. It shouldn’t have made him smile, but it did, even as he teased, “Such a needy one, aren’t you?” He ran his fingers over your mouth like he could wipe away the frown. “You’re far too precious to suffocate.”

You whined at that, and you would have found it embarrassing if you weren’t so desperate, practically begging him to fuck you—now—with the kittenish way you rolled around until you were on your back.

Your eyes followed his hand as it reached into the drawer of his nightstand. He retrieved a condom and tore open its package, his attention never leaving you once. He looked pleased by it—your eagerness—how you spread your thighs only to keep him caged between, with your legs draped over the side of the bed. The smile at the corner of his lips still hadn’t faded.

You could only watch him, mesmerized as he rolled the condom over his length—impressive enough that you felt proud to have had all of it down your throat just a moment ago.

He knew you were there to give him exactly what he wanted. And when he cajoled you with, “Hold them for me—like this,” he knew you’d listen.

He lifted each of your thighs and pressed them into your chest. With your knees nearing your shoulders, you knew what to do next. You wrapped your hands around the backs of your legs and held them in place for him.

“That’s it,” he cooed, taking you by the waist and setting you farther back onto the bed. “Look how pretty.”

He walked his hands up either side of you until crawled onto the bed, hovering just above you with his weight shifted back to his knees. He guided himself to your entrance with one hand, letting the tip of the condom slip between you, teasing your clit just enough to have you pull in a harsh breath through your nose.

“So fucking pretty—” He pushed himself inside you. There was little resistance, like you had turned to putty and were somehow able to mold yourself to take him perfectly. Your head pressed deeper into the mattress, with him kissing up the expanse of your leg, just above your ankle. “—and all for me.”

You felt him flush against you, his pelvis grinding against your clit in just the right way. You fought the urge to lock your legs around him to keep him there, your voice nothing more than a whisper when you begged, “Fuck—don’t stop.”

He took you then. Madly, recklessly, agonizingly—whatever you wanted to call it—it was a frenzied mess of limbs and lips, sweat and sheets, flesh and groans. It was all of the best parts of being tangled up in someone. You wanted him, every bit of him, to taste and to touch, as if he wasn’t already as close to you as humanly possible.

He groaned in your ear, his breath fanning the side of your face. Like he could read your thoughts, he told you, “I want to feel you.” He dragged his cock from you, slowly, then punctuated his next statement with the snap of his hips, forcing you even higher onto the bed. “I want to fuck you raw.”

The words alone were enough to have you teetering over the edge again, but you were practically a babbling mess at the sound of his voice—all strangled as he nearly begged for it. The only thing you could manage now was a breathless chant of please, please, please.

After the third one, he looked at you more seriously. You found it cute, how his brows hung pensively over his eyes. It was much more boyish and suited his face more. “Birth control?”

You still didn’t have enough oxygen in your lungs to form anything more than, “The pill.”

“Clean?” he asked next. He sat back on his knees, waiting until you nodded. “Me too.”

Only then did he roll off of you. He moved to sit on the bed with his back to the headboard. Even after all that, his arms were still steady as he lifted you. In one swoop, you were back on his lap—so effortlessly that he had you believing you belonged there now, too.

With your arms wrapped around his neck, you pulled him to your chest because you missed having his lips there. He didn’t fight it, letting his tongue and lips and teeth explore every inch of you, his face smushed in your tits.

You let him continue long enough for him to ditch the condom. You reached down, stroking him a few times with your hand. He reacted to it—what a gift it was that there was nothing separating you again—with a hard inhale just through his nose.

You held him at the base to guide his cock inside you. As leisurely as one would stroll through the park—as if you had all the time in the world to stop and smell the roses, wait for every groan that bubbled at the back of his throat—you sank onto his cock. It gave way for another break in his cool composure.

You watched it as it happened—the very look, right as it skipped across his irises. It was followed by a breathless sound, one that lived somewhere between a chuckle and gasp, that slipped past his slack-jaw smile.

You couldn’t help but smile, too, thinking he looked drunk off the feeling—even more once you sat high again only to crash back onto him. Then again, and again. Quicker and quicker, until you were bouncing on his cock with your hands flattened against the headboard for support.

He reached a different angle in this position, deeper, and it had you almost trembling above him. He let you continue to use him, anyway you wanted, admiring where he disappeared inside you.

As if you weren’t the one controlling your fingers, you let your hand slip between your legs to aid your release. You felt all your blood rush to your face, flooding you with sweltering heat, and it became a challenge to keep your hips from sputtering.

Your only focus was on your high—like you had become dumb to anything else—and it was quickly approaching. Your shaky breaths melted into choked sobs just as he pushed two fingers, index and middle, into your mouth.

He pressed down on your tongue. “You don’t want them to hear you like this, do you?”

You looked at him, eyes wide and dedicated only to him, as you sucked his fingers instinctively. He smirked at you when he said, “Pathetic, little thing.”

You came again. Your orgasm crashed over you, with every muscle shaking and tensing before you could barely even hold yourself up anymore.

His finger left your mouth. They were wet, dribbling spit along your cheek, as he held your face in his hand. He turned you to look at him when he said, “What do you say?”

Almost like you had said it a million times before, you didn’t hesitate to murmur, “T-thank you.”

He hummed, “You’re such a good toy.”

He sunk down into the bed, his head now on the pillows. He grabbed your hips with bruising force, just before you could fall pliant over him. As if to say, ‘Now it’s my turn,’ he held you still while he fucked up into you, his feet planted firmly into the mattress.

He couldn’t stop your sounds this time. They spilled freely from you, even as you bit your lip so hard you must have drawn blood, still sensitive from your orgasm as he pounded into you. It nearly had you seeing stars, like you were blind from the pleasure of letting him have you.

He was close, you could hear it in his erratic breaths just before he grunted, “You gonna let me come in you? Shit—you want me to fill you up?”

“Yes—” you whined.

“Yes, what?”

“I want you to come in me—please!”

He didn’t let up. His thrusts were still just as unrelenting as he looked up at you sardonically. “You wanna go back out there with my come dripping from you?”

All you could too was give him a slurred, ‘hmmph!’

“So dirty. You’re gonna make a mess of yourself.” He snapped his hips a few times like he could bury even deeper into you. It brought out a certain gruff in his voice as he told you, “Don’t think that I’m giving back those panties.”

It took just one more buck of his hips, hitting just the right spot, for him to nearly knock out your last breath. You collapsed onto him, your bodies sticky with sweat, as you nestled your face into the crook of his shoulder. You were within perfect earshot of listening to his sharp grunts as he came.

His last few thrusts were languid. Long and slow strokes like he wanted to draw out the feeling. You couldn’t even open your eyes, let alone hold onto a single coherent thought, before you whispered, “Thank you.”

The thought of you thanking him for his come pulled another groan from him. You felt his cock jolt inside you. If he hadn’t just given you everything he had, you were sure he’d be hard again.

You didn’t know where your clothes were, and you couldn’t be bothered to care. You laid beside him, each of you on your backs, with chests as heavy as anvils as you gathered your tattered breaths.

You looked over at him, and he was already looking back at you. It was a moment of stillness. His eyes weren’t as dark as they once were—sort of like he was a different person. You couldn’t help but think he looked perfect like that.

He sounded different, too. Almost embarrassed. You heard it in the hint of a chuckle he offered, just at the end, when he asked, “What did you say your name was again?” You gave him your name, and he repeated it once to himself. “Got it. I’ll remember that for next time.”

“Next time?”

“You think I’m gonna fuck you like that then just let walk out of my life? No fucking way.” That smile was back—the big one he showed you when you learned he liked when you sat on his cock slowly.

You laughed a little, mirroring some of his bashfulness, as reality started to sink in. You finally confessed, “I don’t think I caught your name.”

“It’s Eren.”

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut

[seajelllies]

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝟐 ♡︎ not quite, sweetheart masterlist ✎ roll call 1 ✎ roll call 2

"Don't get mad-"

"Every time you say that, my blood pressure rises."

He let out a long nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly before clearing his throat. "I kind of uha, have to pick up some things for a project in one of my classes."

"Yuji," You frown, lifting your head from the textbook you've been staring so deeply at he swore you'd burn a hole in it someday. "You were the one who told me to come over to help you."

"I know I know, I'm sorry, I'll be quick, really." He mumbles apologetically. He felt bad, really, and you could tell from the way he kept his eye contact.

You look at the time on your phone for a second before glancing back at him with a sigh. It wouldn't hurt to just stay put for a bit anyways, since he bought you food and all. If anything, you could just continue studying on your own with less distractions anyways- you weren't the one losing any time.

"Yeah, sure that's fine-"

"Thank you! You're the best! I'll be back, I swear!" And before you could even fully finish your sentence he bolted out of the door, and you could hear someone yelp in the hallway- probably bumping into him in the process. You almost forgot he used to do track in high school- surely you wouldn't be waiting for long.

You let out a soft snort, shaking your head with a sigh.

The first thing Sukuna did when he opened the door, was grumble to himself, running his hand through his hair in frustration. Attending classes was annoying, even more so after he already stays behind at his job for 2 hours longer than he should have.

'I should just fucking quit.' His eye twitches at the thought- very tempting, but quitting meant no money. No money meant no classes. No classes meant no potential decent job. No potential decent job meant he was going to be stuck selling drugs again- which he'd much prefer.

But he can't subject Yuji to that kind of association. Detrimental to his future, or whatever he told himself to justify not taking the easy way out.

As he makes his way into the room, there's 3 things wrong.

One. Yuji's bag and jacket are here, but not Yuji. Sure, those two things don't always need to follow him wherever he goes, but he's gotten used to him just lazing around by the time he gets back.

Two. There's another bag next to his. Unfamiliar, just like the shoes that definitely do not belong to his brother sitting neatly at the doorway. Yuji doesn't tend to invite people over, he usually goes to hang out at Kugisaki or even Fushiguro's dorm.

Three. There's a stranger quite literally sitting at their shared table, head in their arms. He can only assume they fell asleep, because he was almost sure they'd turn around the second the door opens if they weren't. Who just falls asleep in someone elses dorm?

Especially on a table that he can't remember the last time was properly cleaned.

He walks closer, frowning as he shoves his hand in the pockets of his jacket. His eyes glanced down at them as he peered over their shoulder, trying to gauge how asleep they were.

"Oi." He sounded irritated and tired- mostly because he actually was, eye twitching at the unfamiliar guest that seemed to be quite comfortable just falling asleep here.

"Brat, wake up." He scoffs, kicking the leg of the chair lightly, hoping it would stir them awake. But it doesn't and their head stays still, the only sign of them even being alive was their body moving up and down from breathing.

"You've got to be joking." He groans, snapping in front of their head, trying to get them to wake up without simply throwing them off the chair. Calm. Calm. Calm. He had to stay calm, he can not cause another issue and risk getting expelled.

He was too tired for this.

He fights the urge to throw his phone at the wall, exasperated sigh leaving his lips again, his scowl deepening when he notices them adjusting slightly, their arms shifting so he could slightly see their face.

His eyes glance down at them, and he plops into the seat next to theirs, elbow leaning on the desk with his chin resting on his hand with an irritated frown.

How someone could look so peaceful sleeping in someone elses room, he would never understand. Especially a dorm with two college guys- were they stupid? Or maybe they really were exhausted, like Yuji said.

Strands of their hair fall onto their eyes, and he reaches out to move it before he catches himself.

He lets out another grunt, eye twitching when he realizes he was staring too closely at a random stranger, and he moves back, leaning against the back of the shitty chair- hands shoved back into his jacket.

But the feeling of the hair in their eyes seems to wake them up, lashes fluttering slowly as they blink to adjust to the sudden light. They seem to realize they aren't alone, rubbing their sleepy eyes as they turn to glance at him.

"Yuji?" Their voice was quiet, and clearly very exhausted. Hair still slightly in their face, eyes blinking in his direction in confusion

Cute. Almost.

"Not quite, sweetheart."

𝑻𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔!

︾ There was more writing than there were screenshots even though I told myself there wasn't gonna be as much writing to save myself the pain of thinking 🧍‍♀️ ;;sobbing

︾ Anyways I changed the title from what it was going to be originally and move it to chapter 3 because I feel like it'd fit better there! anyways grumpy sukuna is silly, he's so >:( but he'll warm up soon. probably. 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

︾ ik i already said this was fem/afab!reader but my dumbass brain kept writing they/them/their and i didn't realize till i got to the end. im sorry 😔

𝑹𝒐𝒍𝒍 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒍! the taglist

@sweetteez

#jjk smau #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk masterlist #jjk sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk texts #jjk fake texts #ryomen sukuna x reader

[ghxstlike]

i love loving you

leon kennedy x reader content/warnings: petnames (baby), leon being awkward, leon antics, awkward flirting, teasing, cigarette mention, leon’s music taste, anxiety mention, nightmare mention. authors note: i am down bad for this man. he is rotting my brain and i am very okay with it. these are personal headcanons :)

leon's smile always starts out as a smirk. it's very cute.

always has a hand on you. around your shoulders, holding your hand, lightly gripping your thigh. he wants other people to know that you're taken- you're his.

he is a slightly possessive and jealous man. if someone is flirting with you, his eyes are narrowed at the person who is way too close to you, and his leg is bouncing with anxiety.

sooner or later, he saunters over to the two of you and wraps an arm around your shoulders.

"hey, baby," he whispers in your ear, but it was loud enough for the person in front of you to hear. you shiver, slightly leaning into leon's embrace.

when you first met leon, you were immediately attracted to him. so, of course, you started to flirt with him.

though, he isn't dumb. he knew you were flirting with him (he was flirting back, after all). he teased you for it, obviously.

"are you flirting with me?" he says with a smirk. leon leaned down to get closer to your face, tilting his head.

people say that leon is a flirting machine and is good with women. no he is not.

i mean, yes, he does flirt a lot, but he is not good with women at all.

you found it very charming and cute when he asked you out. a huge smile was plastered on your face, staring at the nervous man in front of you.

“i- hm, i was just- fuck. i was wondering if you, i dunno,” he clears his throat. his face is slightly pink, but he thinks that his face is a deep red by how hot his body feels. “do you want to go get dinner with me sometime?” he manages to get out. he sighs out of relief- he did it. he feels a drop of sweat roll down his temple onto his cheek, shoving his clammy hands into his jean pockets.

of course, you said yes. i mean, who wouldn’t?

y’all aren’t gonna like this, but he definitely smokes cigarettes.

i mean c’mon, he was born in 1977. though, he didn’t willingly start smoking. his friends in high-school peer pressured him.

he tried to stop smoking before his first day at rpd, but it failed miserably. he felt antsy and he was more on edge- angry. he hated that he got easily frustrated with people. he’ll try again someday.

he smells like cigarette smoke and leather. occasionally he smells like coconut & patchouli (his cologne).

always has a stress toy with him. i like to think he wears a fidget ring on his middle finger or thumb. playing with a stress ball or twirling a pen makes him more focused and calm.

bites the inside of his cheek when he’s deep in thought. he doesn’t even notice that he’s doing it, it just happens.

his music taste is decent!

he doesn’t listen to the radio, thinks 2010 music is trash and it’s annoying.

it’s mostly a combination between 90s alt & grunge and early 2000’s rock. his favorite band is radiohead.

always gives eye contact. never looks away when you're talking, especially when you're talking about your long day at work or something you're passionate about.

as we all may know, he's bad at communicating his feelings. you can tell he's getting better with it, but it's still a challenge for him.

he never talks about raccoon city. you only found out about this from overhearing a conversation he had with claire. you brought it up one time, but he fell silent and never looked up at you. ever since then, you never talked about it with him.

mans suffers with frequent nightmares, so obviously he never sleeps. when he's with you though, he doesn't have any nightmares. so, he stays up until you're ready for bed.

when you're out late, he's waiting for you in bed.

leon loves to get his hair played with. he loves the feeling of your nails lightly scratching his scalp.

if you take meds, he always reminds you to take them. he also watches you take them, just in case.

leon always wants the best for you. he just loves you, so so much.

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil